


all for you

by artificiallale



Series: girls like dollies [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Lesbian AU, Smut, art teacher katya, so much fluff...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificiallale/pseuds/artificiallale
Summary: Trixie is dozing, caught in some pleasant space between awake and asleep, when footsteps pad across the carpet towards her and the bed dips, a pointed knee digging into her thigh.“Trixie! Good morning!” She peels open her eyes to see Katya hovering over her, grinning where she’s perched over Trixie’s middle. Trixie smiles sleepily, tipping onto her back and giggling along with Katya when she slides down to sit on Trixie’s hips.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> here’s the ~~epilogue/mini-~~ sequel to girls like dollies. i totally intended for this to be a tiny lil ficlet about my girls to check in on them a few years down the line, but it morphed into this chunky fic, so this is part one of three (i think)! apologies for a shocking lack of research, excessive unnecessary Capitalization, far too much handwaving, a sickening amount of fluff and just a lil’ smut to round things off.  
> i think you could probably read this without reading girls like dollies? probably? i'm not sure tbh, i've become completely absorbed into this little world now.  
> come say hi @[crackerdyke](http://www.crackerdyke.tumblr.com)on tumblr if you want to. thanks as always to the people i couldn't have written this without for putting up with my ramblings and constant mental instability. i love y'all.  
> 

Sharing a room with Kim and Pearl for two years at RuPaul’s left Trixie with the ability to sleep through anything. Kim snored when she slept heavily, and Pearl liked to throw open their window at any ridiculous hour of the night if she wanted a cigarette, or she’d bicker on a Sunday morning with Violet about their plans for the day. Trixie had gotten used to it all, but that doesn’t stop her from appreciating the mornings now when she gets to wake up in a quiet room, light slowly filtering in through pale pink curtains and throwing faint patterns over the white sheets where she’s splayed herself out across the middle of the bed. Trixie hums to herself, eyelids heavy as she turns herself over, pressing her face into the pillow beside her and enjoying the knowledge that she has no reason to get out of bed any time soon.

Trixie is dozing, caught in some pleasant space between awake and asleep, when footsteps pad across the carpet towards her and the bed dips, a pointed knee digging into her thigh.

“Trixie! Good morning!” She peels open her eyes to see Katya hovering over her, grinning where she’s perched over Trixie’s middle. Trixie smiles sleepily, tipping onto her back and giggling along with Katya when she slides down to sit on Trixie’s hips.

“It’s early,” she whines, stretching her arms up in front of her. Katya catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before leaning down to drape herself over her, breath from her nose tickling at Trixie’s neck as she nuzzles in close to her. A happy noise rumbles in the back of Trixie’s throat and she traces her hands lightly down Katya’s arms, before wrapping her own around her neck, content smile on her face. “Hi,” she whispers, and Katya lifts her head again, Trixie’s eyes cross a little as she looks at that bright white smile so close to her own.

“Hello,” Katya whispers back, kissing her softly. Trixie will never get tired of this, the ease and familiarity between them that only gets better with every day she gets to share with her.

“Did you get bored of yoga?” She vaguely remembers Katya peeling herself away as the sun began to rise, smoothing Trixie’s hair and leaving her with a kiss to her temple and a promise of breakfast together once Trixie was awake. Katya is often too restless in the morning to lie in bed with Trixie, but Trixie doesn’t mind. She treasures the mornings when Katya wants nothing more than to curl up with her under the blankets and share sleepy conversations, usually in the coldest part of winter when she’ll press her bare, cold feet against Trixie’s calves and tuck her hands up under her shirt, frigid fingers splayed against her spine, but most days Trixie’s happy to let her go, safe in the knowledge that she’ll always come back. 

“It’s not as fun when you’re not leering at me.” Katya’s face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, hair darker and almost damp where it meets her forehead. Trixie lifts her hands and frees Katya’s hair from the tie she’d pulled it back with, she runs her fingers through soft strands and Katya rocks against her thigh.

“Or you decided you were too horny to meditate,” Trixie says and Katya laughs into her mouth, free and easy.

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” Katya pushes down the thin sheet that’s pooled around Trixie’s thighs, tangling it around her own ankle in her eagerness and sending Trixie into a fit of giggles as she flails to free herself. Katya’s laughing too, caught up in Trixie’s happiness as she pushes Trixie’s t-shirt up over her stomach, and Trixie automatically lifts her hips so Katya can tug her panties down over her thighs. Trixie’s still giggling even as Katya’s hands skim over her legs.

“Smooth,” she says, tracing the line from Trixie’s knees down to her ankles. “Oh, no, not this way,” she says, laughing as she moves her hand back up slowly up towards Trixie’s thighs, and Trixie’s head falls back against the pillows. She’s giggling still, but heat is building in the pit of her stomach as Katya’s hands keep up their steady path over her inner thighs. She pushes her legs up and apart and Trixie moves willingly, eyelids fluttering closed as Katya’s fingertips hover over her skin, not quite where Trixie wants them. The room is quiet, still, and all Trixie can hear is the sound of her own breathing, Katya’s muffled against Trixie’s skin as she ducks her head down and presses the lightest kiss to the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. Trixie groans at the brief scrape of teeth against her flesh, she tries to push up against Katya but her hand slide up to her hips, pinning her to the mattress with her strength that always turns Trixie on. Trixie can’t help but whine as she squirms under Katya’s touch, and the breathy laugh Katya lets out against the curve of her thigh jolts straight up through her spine.

“Bitch,” Trixie breathes, biting her lip, and Katya lifts her head just enough to grin at her before she ducks down again, Trixie can feel her hot breath against her. She threads her fingers into Katya’s hair, lets out a low, long moan when Katya finally puts her mouth on her. She’s still toying with, little kitten licks against Trixie’s clit too light to do more than wind her up tighter, Katya knows this and she is a fucking _tease_ , Trixie’s toes curl against the sheets. “Kat, please. _Please_ ,” she says, her voice is basically a whimper as she tugs on Katya’s hair, trying to pull her closer since her hips are still trapped under Katya’s strong grip. Katya moans and Trixie feels it against her, vibrations rocking her through to her core, and then she’s finally licking her properly, releasing her hold on one of Trixie’s hips to rub two fingertips teasingly around her entrance. Trixie’s eyes are squeezed shut as Katya sucks on her clit, pushes her fingers into her and crooks them just so until Trixie’s back arches off the bed.

Katya pulls her fingers back a second later, curling her hands under Trixie’s thighs to grasp her ass and tug her down the bed a little. She’s eating Trixie out like it’s the only thing in the world she wants to be doing, her enthusiasm turns Trixie on almost as much as her clever tongue against her clit. Almost. Trixie’s panting, Katya’s name is falling off her tongue like a prayer, and she brings her hands up to cup her own breasts through the thin material of her nightshirt. She pinches her nipple, enjoying the mounting pressure in the pit of her stomach with Katya’s mouth on her still, tongue pushing inside her while her fingers dig into the plump flesh of her ass. The sun is warm against Trixie’s face where it’s streaming in through the blinds, it’s a Sunday morning and she doesn’t have to go to work until tomorrow evening and her girlfriend is eating her out. Life is pretty fucking good.

Katya’s fingers push into her again, wiggling a little before curling in against just the right spot to make her gasp. She knows Trixie so well, knows exactly how to get her off, but also how to tease her and drive her insane as she drag her lips over to plant kisses against the light stretch marks on the inside of Trixie’s thigh. Her fingers are working in and out of her and Trixie can feel her orgasm building fast, bubbling under the surface of her skin. Katya’s tongue swipes over her clit again and sucks, her fingers press against that perfect spot again, Trixie pinches her own nipple hard and she comes, exhaling Katya’s name as her legs tremble. Katya licks her through it until it’s too much, Trixie has to reach down to push on her shoulder. Katya lifts her head and smiles at her, smug, her lips are glistening. Trixie tugs her up towards her, grasping at her firm biceps as Katya crawls over her body, tugging her tank top off. Trixie peels her panties down her thighs, her brain’s still fuzzy around the edges as Katya leans down to kiss her hungrily. She’s slick against Trixie’s thigh, Trixie can tell she’s practically bursting with arousal from the little keening noises she’s making against her lips and Trixie skims her hands around her hips, squeezing her ass to tease her for a moment. She can’t hold out for long, though, pulling her lips away from Katya’s to trail sloppy kisses down over her shoulder and chest while she rubs her clit in slow circles.

“Trixie, Trix, god,” Katya mumbles, arching her back and pushing her breasts towards her. Trixie dips her fingers inside her, rubbing at her clit with the pad of her thumb; she lightly licks at one peaked nipple, pushing her fingers in and out rhythmically. Her free hand runs over Katya’s narrow hip, brushing against smooth skin. She wants to burn this image of Katya into her brain forever, skin mottled flush red from her cheeks down to her chest, Trixie kisses pink skin before taking her nipple into her mouth again, tugging lightly between her teeth.  Her wrist is cramping a little as Katya pushes against her fingers, but, well – Trixie’s kind of a champ at this by now. Katya’s panting by the time she grasps the back of Trixie’s neck, pulling her head up for a deep, desperate kiss. Trixie can tell Katya’s close from the way her movements turn short, sharp, fingers digging into the base of Trixie’s neck, and she fucks her harder with her fingers. Katya’s hips twitch and stutter against Trixie’s stomach, she feels her tighten around her fingers and she groans deep into her mouth, sagging heavy against Trixie.

“God, Trix. I fucking love you,” Katya breathes, words almost slurred as she drops her forehead against Katya’s shoulder. Trixie giggles against her sweaty neck, dragging her hand up over Katya’s body, narrow hips, slim stomach, ticklish ribs, small, perky breasts, and loops her arms around her shoulders, rubbing her back in slow, gentle movements.

“I love you too,” she says, sighs soft and long and closes her eyes, holds Katya’s warm, slack body close.

 

***

 

When Trixie was a teenager, she’d imagined that she’d fly through college, love all of her courses, fall into some amazing acting role and then take Hollywood by storm, get married to the Perfect Man whose face she could never quite picture in her fantasies. She was a hard worker, she knew was a good actress, there was no reason why it wouldn’t all come together for her. Her life would be perfect, and she’d be able to forget everything she’d come from.

Of course, that had always been her fantasy life. She knew, she’d always known that being talented and working hard wasn’t a guarantee, especially when it came to something like acting. But she still hadn’t quite expected to get out of college and have an existential crisis about her career.

It’s not like she doesn’t still love acting. She does, and she knows she’s good, and when she gets the chance to perform she loves every second of it. But the part she can’t stand is the uncertainty, the constant need to put herself out there for rejection, the way she can spend hours and hours, days, rehearsing for an audition, make Katya practice lines with her over and over until she’s sure she must want to strangle her, and yet she still won’t get anywhere. She hates it.

She never expected to be the other side of college and working a shitty shift job because she doesn’t want to admit defeat, tells herself every day that this is just temporary, she’ll just carry on with it until her Big Break, it has to be coming. She kisses Katya goodbye every morning, watches her off to her job that she loves, that’s she’s so good at and that Trixie’s so proud of her for doing, and can’t help the pang of jealousy deep in her chest. She wants that, she wants to have a career that she’s proud of, that she loves. The main problem is that she isn’t sure what that would be anymore.

She’s thought about it a lot. Sometimes it spills out of her, usually when she’s had a few glasses of wine on an evening when she doesn’t have to work and Katya has time to stop and relax with her, listen to her slowly unravel under the weight of her uncertainty and stroke her hair, lie next to her in their bed in their little Chicago apartment and let her pour her heart out to her. Sometimes it feels like Katya’s forever presence at her side is the only thing grounding her.

Her life isn’t the crazy dream she imagined when she was younger, she doesn’t have the Perfect Man but that’s laughable now, really, that she ever tried to tell herself that that was what she wanted, but instead she has her perfectly flawed, funny, intelligent, impossibly kind, _loving_ girlfriend who she could describe forever and never run out of adjectives for. And maybe she’s not living the fantasy life in some Hollywood mansion, but they have their little apartment in Chicago, where she and Kim would whisper together about running away to when they were younger, promise each other that they were going to live the dream life there. Katya’s happy to live here, Trixie knows that; her family are in Boston now, but she’s lived away from them long enough not to mind the separation, and they both know Trixie would find the cold weather there depressing. Katya would do almost anything to make Trixie happy, and Trixie knows that, cherishes it and is in awe of it every single day.

Trixie likes her life, she does. It’s not like it’s bad, or hard, really. She barely ever has to get up early, gets to watch Katya get ready in the morning from a cocoon of blankets and admire her ass as she stumbles around their bedroom, smile sleepy against her lips when she kisses her goodbye and doze for a while longer. She likes that she still gets to see Kim all the time, that their friendship is just as strong ten years down the line. She likes that she gets to share her life with Katya, that she stills feels as totally, utterly, head over heels in love with her as she did when she was sixteen and falling in love for the first time. She still feels like she’s falling in love.

Sure, she kind of hates her job, but so do most people. She’s never going to get excited over working for shitty money in a shitty bar, making people drinks and trying to laugh off gross guys’ advances for the sake of a tip, but things aren’t that bad. She likes a lot of the people she works with. The worst thing about it is the unpredictability, and some days, especially on the weekends when she has to work a double shift and she loses most of one of the few days Katya doesn’t have to go to work, she wants to cry, wants to quit and give up on the idea that doing this job is worth it. But Trixie doesn’t like quitting anything, and working evening shifts most of the time is practical when she needs to go to an audition. It doesn’t matter if she hasn’t gone to one in months.

She keeps meaning to, she really does. She’s just tired. The thought of getting rejected again makes her want to lie down and close her eyes; the thought of getting somewhere with it and not getting far enough is somehow worse. She doesn’t want to be mediocre.

 

***

 

When they finally peel themselves out of bed an hour later, after Katya ended up dozing in Trixie’s arms and Trixie couldn’t bring herself to move her and spent the time browsing Instagram with her phone awkwardly hovered over Katya’s back, Trixie goes to make coffee while Katya showers. Of course, then Trixie has to go and brush her teeth once the coffee maker’s running, and that inevitably ends with Katya tugging her into the shower with her, and then Trixie’s on her knees with one of Katya’s legs, all strong, taut muscles, balanced over her shoulder while she eats her out. By the time Trixie finally comes back to the kitchen, walking on jelly legs but dressed and drying her hair off with a towel, she has to start the whole process again but she can’t bring herself to care. Katya follows her, goes to the wide window behind the couch and throws it open, hip perched against its edge as she reaches for the pack of cigarettes balanced on the arm of the couch. Trixie rolls her eyes, but she’s feeling too good to bicker with her about going down three flights of stairs to smoke outside. Katya’s quiet while she smokes, one arm wrapped around her middle and her gaze unfocused as she looks out into the street, lit up in the sunshine. When she’s done she sprawls herself out on her front by the couch, picking up where she left off with some project she’d been planning the night before. Her legs kick up behind her, thick thigh muscles sticking out and Trixie can’t help but watch her. She always get distracted by Katya, no matter how many slow Sundays she gets to spend watching her get lost in her work.

Trixie’s feeling pretty good as she crosses the room, sets a tray carefully in front of Katya and sits beside her, cross-legged. Katya turns her head to grin at her, pushing aside a mess of papers to pull a mug of coffee towards herself. Trixie picks up one of the glasses of peach juice and looks over at Katya’s notes, scribbled paragraphs and little sketches with colourful arrows and annotations all over the page. It’s like everything Katya produces is a work of art in itself, Trixie loves seeing how her brain works. Katya pushes herself up on her elbows, runs a hand over Trixie’s thigh, she never passes up an opportunity to squeeze them. She turns her head, presses a kiss to Trixie’s knee.

“What are your plans for today?” she asks, Trixie runs her fingers through her damp hair and Katya makes a little noise like a purr deep in her throat, eyelids fluttering close for a moment. Trixie ducks her head, kisses the curve of Katya’s shoulder instead of answering. “I don’t have too much more to do on this, we could go somewhere later?” Katya suggests.

“Yeah.” Trixie smiles, goes back to her peach juice as Katya drinks her coffee that still has to be too hot and picks up her pen. Katya’s laptop is on the floor nearby, still open on her favourite yoga playlist, and Trixie reaches for it.

“Any auditions this week?” Katya asks. She always asks, but she never pushes at Trixie’s noncommittal answers. She knows her well enough to leave it be until Trixie wants to talk. Trixie loves her.

“Maybe,” she says, navigating to Kim’s Instagram. She posted an hour ago and she already has a trillion likes and comments on her latest look. Trixie’s already logged in on her account so she likes the photo, starts typing out a new comment. “Kat, how do you spell gila monster? Is it a g? Or an h?” she asks, tapping Katya’s shoulder.

“Hm?” Katya’s not listening, caught up in something she’s sketching in the corner of the page and Trixie rolls her eyes. She pulls up a new tab to google it.

Katya’s browser history pops up in front of her and Trixie’s brow furrows. “What’s this?” she asks. Katya doesn’t respond and Trixie reaches over to swipe her coffee mug from in front of her face. It does the trick, Katya lifts her head to look at her, the confused expression on her face so sweet that Trixie’s almost distracted entirely. “What’s this?” she repeats, and Katya rolls her back, her ass sticks up in the air for a moment, then pushes herself up to sit beside Trixie. Trixie lets her take her coffee back and taps at the laptop screen. Katya squints at it, Trixie’s sure she needs glasses but that’s an issue for another time.

“Oh. I was just looking,” she says, sounding unconcerned as she lifts her mug to her lips and drains it.

“Just looking at jobs in LA?” Trixie asks, eyebrow raised. Katya shrugs. “Kat. What the fuck?”

“You know, there are a shit ton of fancy private schools out there that want to pay art teachers a lot. Like, _a lot_ ,” Katya says, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation.

“And we live in Chicago. And you like your job! Why would you be looking at jobs out there?”

Katya reaches past her to shut the laptop, pushes it away from them. She takes the juice from Trixie’s hand and sets it down, turns to face her properly and pushes her fingers through Trixie’s.

“I want you to be happy, Trix,” she says, her thumb’s rubbing little circles over the side of Trixie’s hand. It feels nice, comfortingly familiar, almost distracts Trixie from what she’s saying.

“I _am_ happy,” she says, “why wouldn’t I be?”

It’s not like they haven’t talked about LA before. It was always part of Trixie’s dream going back to when they first met, when Trixie started to trust Katya enough to tell her about what she wanted for her future, embarrassing herself with long, gushing monologues at Katya about the life she pictured there, living in the eternal sunshine of California where it was always warm enough to wear whatever you wanted, you were always tanned and things were always happy. Katya had always smiled, half indulgent, and joined in on her wistful ideas, they’d spent entire evenings together planning out whole lives that would come when they were done with school, college, when they were Grown Up, carefully skirting around the way those lives inevitably wound together in every possible scenario that came up.

Trixie knows why Katya’s doing this. She’s always been disgustingly thoughtful, remembering every little comment and hint Trixie leaves for her, and here she is now trying to let Trixie live out her dream life. It’s sickening, really, how much she cares about Trixie.

The problem, really, is that the idea of her LA life has always been so caught up in Trixie’s dreams of being an Actress, a real, successful one. In her most delusional dreams she’d pictured herself getting spotted in some part or another, flooded with job offers until she _had_ to move to LA, too big a success to stay away any longer. Even in her more realistic fantasies she imagined that she’d have achieved more in her career before she considered moving. She’d never pictured it like this, going out to LA when she wasn’t even sure if she could see herself as an actress anymore. It feels wrong, like she’d be messing up everything she’d pictured for herself. Giving up on the idea that her dreams could still happen the way she’d imagined them once upon a time.

“Trixie, you hate your job. I know you do! I don’t want you to be miserable here. I know you—”

“I like living here. You love your job, I’m near Kim, we’d be so far away from your family if we moved all the way to California,” Trixie interrupts. “Besides. If we move somewhere that sunny you’re going to turn into a leathery old hag before you’re even thirty, and I don’t think I could be seen with you. I can barely be seen with you now.” She grins, proud of herself, watches Katya’s face as she starts to laugh, fingers squeezing Trixie’s and her free hand coming over to smack her thigh. Trixie lets out a shout of laughter and grabs Katya’s bicep, vaguely aware of the relief she’s feeling at successfully closing the conversation for now. When Katya starts to calm down, seems like she might try to push the issue again, Trixie swings a leg over her thighs, letting her weight drop down onto her. Katya’s hands immediately relocate to the small of her back, drift down over the curves of her hips, to her thighs and up again, fingers skimming over dimpled skin where her dress has ridden up. Trixie smiles, leans in to kiss the curve of her jaw, Katya can always be counted upon to get distracted by her ass.

“I promise,” she says, voice soft, “I promise, I’m happy.”

 

***

 

Trixie’s fucking miserable. She feels like she’s got a black cloud hanging around her head, the beginnings of a headache seeping up the back of her neck in clawing tendrils as she climbs the stairs of their building. It’s late, later than it should be because she never gets out on time, not even when she’s already worked every night in a row for a week, no one cares that she might have a life to go home to, someone she might want to see for just one evening. She can feel angry tears prickling at the back of her eyes, throat thick and hot as she tries to hold them back. It’s pathetic, really, that she’s letting her job get to her like this, but she’s so, so tired. Katya’s probably asleep, she has work in the morning, so Trixie does her best to stay quiet as she unlocks the door, keeps her footsteps light as she crosses the threshold and turns around to lock up behind her. There’s a light on in their bedroom and Trixie wonders if Katya fell asleep with it on, maybe for Trixie’s benefit, even, but then she hears light footsteps approaching her.

“It’s so late,” Katya says, pausing in the doorway before coming over.

“I know. Sorry,” Trixie says, shrugging off her jacket and letting it drop over the back of a chair at the small table in the corner of the kitchen.

“Trix! Don’t be sorry, _I’m_ sorry you were there so late.” Katya’s hands move to squeeze her shoulders lightly, and Trixie can see the concern in her blue eyes in the dim light. Trixie’s whole body sags. Katya wraps her arms around her, tucks her head in against Trixie’s neck and inhales and when she pulls back she wrinkles her nose. “How many drinks did you get thrown on you tonight?” she asks, touches her fingers to the sticky patch on the inside of Trixie’s elbow and pulls back.

“Only one, but it was a whole fucking drunk. Asshole was so insistent about trying to buy one for me, even though I was working and he was, like, gross, that he ended up throwing his all over me before he’d even had any,” Trixie says, unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her shoulders. Katya catches it before it can hit the ground, carries it back through to their room to toss it into the laundry hamper while Trixie drinks the water that’s out on the side, Katya must have left it for her earlier. Her head’s pounding when she sets the empty glass down and she reaches up to rub her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. She hears Katya come back out into the kitchen, feels her arm brush against Trixie’s as she picks the glass up and refills it.

“Here,” Katya says, voice quiet, tone soothing as she slides the glass over towards Trixie. Trixie opens her eyes, sees that Katya’s on the other side of the kitchen now to grab painkillers for her. She must have been in bed before Trixie got back, her hair’s flat at the back of her head, and her t-shirt rides up over her thighs and ass as she pushes herself up onto tiptoes.

When the sight of the muscles in Katya’s thick thighs straining as she reaches up to open the cupboard door can’t even cheer her up, Trixie really knows she’s had a bad day.

Katya hands her the painkillers, pushes her hair back from her face and kisses her forehead. “Take these. Want me to start a shower?” she offers. Trixie can never go to sleep without washing the grime of the bar off of her, especially when she can still feel that guy’s drink sticking to her skin, the smell of it clinging to her.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” Trixie says, swallowing down the pills with a mouthful of water and grimacing. Katya rolls her eyes and doesn’t repond, goes through to the small bathroom that leads off the other side of the room. Trixie follows, running her fingers through her curls and grimacing when she snags knots between them. The water’s already running by the time she gets into the bathroom, Katya’s put the settings on just how Trixie likes them, almost scalding but not quite, and she waits for Trixie to undress before she takes her clothes from her.

Trixie pulls her hair into a high pony, she’s too tired to wash it right now, and steps into the tub. The hot water is soothing and she turns her head up towards it, lets it run down from her forehead. She flexes her toes against the floor of the tub, water swirling around her feet as her muscles relax. It feels like she’s washing the worst of the night away.

A hand appears around the shower curtain, waving her toothbrush at her. Trixie smiles; it already has toothpaste on. She takes it, and a second later Katya perches on the furthest corner of the tub, her own toothbrush stuck out of her mouth.

“Did you find someone to swap shifts with you tomorrow?” Katya asks, lips specked with foam. Trixie shakes her head. “Trixie! You can’t do seven nights in the row, that’s crazy.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s money,” Trixie says around toothbrush bristles. This week has felt long enough that she’s used to spending every night at the bar, it’s part of her routine now. Besides, it’s no wonder that no one will switch shifts with her when she’s always fighting to keep her weekends clear so she has some time to spend with Katya while she’s not at work in the day. Not that she’ll say that to Katya, of course.

“We don’t need money that bad. You could call in sick?” Katya suggests. Trixie doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and spits into the drain, holds out her toothbrush. Katya takes it without comment, stands up and disappears behind the shower curtain. Trixie turns the water off, lets out a long exhale and pushes the curtain back, stepping out of the tub. She grabs a towel, wraps it around herself. Katya’s gone back to their bedroom, Trixie can hear her moving around.

Trixie holds her towel close to her body, too exhausted to care about the wet footprints she’s leaving as she walks towards their bedroom. She stops by the door when she realizes her phone’s still in her jacket, it was on low battery by the time she got back so she needs to charge it.

“Did you go shopping?” she calls out to Katya as she crosses the kitchen, taking in the small pile of clothes on the table that she’d missed before. She spots something black and sheer as she reaches into her jacket pocket to grab her phone and her lips tug into a smile for the first time all night. No doubt Katya’s found something that Trixie will enjoy getting to see her try on.

“The pink’s for you!” Katya calls back and Trixie lets out a little huff of laughter. It’s not like Katya needed to point that out, Trixie can count the times she’s seen her wear pink in all the years they’ve known each other on one hand. It’s sweet, though, that she thought of her, and Trixie runs her fingers over the soft pink fabric of the dress draped over a chair. There’s something else pink on the table, and it takes her a second to recognize it as a guitar strap curled around itself. Trixie picks it up and carries it with her phone to the bedroom.

“Why did you get this?” she asks, dropping her phone onto the bed and holding up the guitar strap. Katya’s already in bed, knees tucked up to her chest under the sheets and her phone in her hands, she looks up from it and blinks at Trixie for a moment.

“Didn’t yours break?” she asks, reaching for her cable to plug her phone in to charge.

“Huh?”

“I thought it broke. Remember? It snapped. Did you already replace it?” She’s not really paying attention, pushing herself down the bed and turning off the light on her side, laying down properly and turning to face Trixie again. “Trixie?”

Trixie’s not paying attention either. She’s looking down at the guitar strap, brow furrowed. Katya’s right, hers did snap, but that was months ago, not long after Christmas. Has she really not picked up her guitar since then? She can’t have, she’d have remembered that she needed to replace its strap.

How has she gone so long without doing something she used to love so much? There was a time when she didn’t go a day without playing; back in college it was part of her routine: go to classes, go to rehearsals, play her guitar and write self-indulgent, sappy songs that she never let anyone else hear. She loved it. Even when she they moved to Chicago, and Trixie was driving herself insane with audition after audition, she still found time to pick up her guitar, sit and strum at its strings and hum to herself with Katya curled up on the other end of the couch, watching her with such an obvious look of adoration on her face that Trixie would have to put her guitar down and kiss it away.

When did that stop? She’s fallen out of love with acting, resigned herself to working a shitty job with shitty people for shitty pay, and she hadn’t even realized that she’s stopped playing her guitar, too. Trixie’s chest is tight, uncomfortably so – what does she even have that she loves anymore, besides Katya? She can hear Katya’s words in the back of her mind, from that Sunday morning months back, _I want you to be happy, Trix._

Trixie thought she was.

 

***

 

When Trixie was younger, she always felt like she was drowning, kicking and fighting against her family, herself, the world, to keep her head above water. Now, sometimes she feels like she’s floating. She doesn’t quite know where she’s going or how far from shore she is, but she’s tethered to Katya. Katya doesn’t stop her floating, and sometimes she feels like the current’s pulling her a little too far away. But when the water gets too cold, or a wave threatens to wash her away altogether, she feels Katya’s fingers thread through hers, holding her steady and reminding her that she’s not alone, even if she’s not quite where she wants to be yet.

 

***

 

Trixie sets the guitar strap down, silently dries herself off and picks up the t-shirt that’s sat waiting for her on the bed, Katya must have laid it out for her, pulls it over her head and then takes her towel back to the bathroom. By the time she gets back Katya’s eyes are closed, her chest’s rising and falling evenly, but when Trixie pulls back the sheets to lie down beside her she reaches out, and Trixie gratefully wriggles across the bed into her arms, tucks her head under her bony chin and lets her cheek rest against her chest, the steady thump of Katya’s heart under her ribs soothing against her cheek. Katya’s fingertips graze against her side, a slow up and down.

“I love you,” Katya says in a sleepy voice against Trixie’s temple, Trixie’s sure her hair must be tickling her nose like this but she doesn’t complain.

“I love you, too,” Trixie whispers back. She lets the silence linger between them for a moment or two, Katya’s already half asleep and Trixie should probably leave her be but she can’t, her mind is racing. “Katya?”

“Hm?” Katya’s fingertips pause against her side, she’s listening.

“Can we talk about LA again?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie loves their apartment in California. It’s tiny, it might not even be half the size of their nice two-bedroom back in Chicago, tucked into a corner of West Hollywood in a building where the elevator never works and none of the neighbours say hello when she passes them. The rent is extortionate and the heat is even hotter than she expected it to be, their a/c never works when they need it most, she’s always boiling hot even when she sleeps naked with the windows thrown open, sheets pushed to the floor and Katya banished to the furthest away point in their bed to sweat as far away from her as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i had to change the description for this fic, there was no way i could call it an epilogue anymore and this chunky monster of a fic certainly could not be called a mini anything. so this is now officially a sequel, and i’ve split this part into two because it was getting unmanageable and there’ll now be four parts instead of three. of course, i split it and this part still turned into a Beast so, idk. sorry? i guess?
> 
> thank you to everyone who was encouraged me so much to keep going with this fic, ily forever. come say hi @[crackerdyke](http://www.crackerdyke.tumblr.com) on tumblr, let me know what you think in the comments and please give me any excuse to talk about this world, i’m so in love with it and could talk about it for six days straight if anyone would let me tbh.

Trixie loves their apartment in California. It’s tiny, it might not even be half the size of their nice two-bedroom back in Chicago, tucked into a corner of West Hollywood in a building where the elevator never works and none of the neighbours say hello when she passes them. The rent is extortionate and the heat is even hotter than she expected it to be, their ac never works when they need it most, she’s always boiling hot even when she sleeps naked with the windows thrown open, sheets pushed to the floor and Katya banished to the furthest away point in their bed to sweat as far away from her as possible. 

Trixie loves it. She loves all of it.

The very first day they get there she sets to work making it feel like home, from the first minute they get through the door, really, unpacking everything diligently even when Katya collapses onto the floor, lies on her back and insists that it’s too hot to do anything and why did they want to move here again? Trixie just laughs, too excited to join her even though she looks positively angelic, tangled blonde hair splayed around her head and shorts falling down over her narrow hips, tiny t-shirt damp with sweat around the collar and under her tits. She lets herself kneel down and kiss her once, just for a moment, and maybe it’s a long moment where Katya’s strong grip wraps around her elbow and keeps her close, she’s kissing her hot and slow but it’s just a moment, even if Trixie’s breathing heavy when she pulls away and so is Katya, nipples visibly hard under the thin material of her shirt as she draws her knees up, presses her thighs together. Trixie forces herself to walk away, determined to unpack the last of the boxes before she lets herself stop, she wants everything to be perfect, to feel like this is home.

By the time she’s done she can feel her dress sticking to her back, sweat dripping down the back of her neck, she’s grateful she didn’t put any makeup on because it would for sure have melted off her face entirely by now, and she pads through to the kitchen to drink some water. Cradling the cold glass between her hands she goes to the window, pushes it open and closes her eyes as the breeze cools her sweaty skin.

“This place looks amazing,” Katya says behind her. Trixie turns to face her, she hadn’t even realized that she’d gone to take a shower but her hair’s wet, dripping onto the tiles, and the towel wrapped around her is short, brushing the tops of her thighs. Her skin is faintly red and there’s little black smudges under her eyes where she didn’t quite manage to wipe away of all of her mascara. Trixie lifts her water to her lips, keeps her gaze locked with Katya’s while she drains her glass, doesn’t bother wiping away the droplets on her lip as she sets it down on the side.

“It looks good, doesn’t it?” she agrees, not moving and looking around. The small kitchen is neatly organized, the living area looks cozy and welcoming. It looks like a home, feels like their home, but maybe that’s as much to do the way Katya’s looking at her as anything else.

“Trixie. Will you come here?” Katya’s voice sounds a little strained, it sends a thrill through Trixie and she feigns confusion.

“Why? Is something wrong?” she asks, and Katya groans, Trixie sees the heel of one foot come off the floor, her dainty toes with their chipped red polish curling. Trixie swallows back a grin, her fingertips and her toes are tingling with the buzz that always comes with knowing how badly Katya wants her, it always thrills her no matter how many times it’s happened by this point. Katya’s leaning back against the small, heavy table tucked into the corner of the kitchen, just enough space around it to squeeze in two chairs without filling all the floor space. She’s gripping the edge of it, knuckles white, and Trixie pushes her glass backwards across the counter a little harder than she means to until it clinks against the wall, crosses the space between them. 

“Trix…Trix.” The words sound strained, and Trixie pushes back her wet hair from where it’s sticking to her temple with the lightest touch she can manage. Katya’s leg twitches where it’s almost pressed against Trixie’s, not quite, the muscle in her thigh bulges Trixie can’t feel it but she almost can. She can see a sheen of sweat against the curve of her neck already, skin shiny and practically radiating heat and Trixie’s insides twist pleasantly, Katya’s towel is a little loose around her torso, the corner coming untucked under her arm and Trixie can’t help herself, she carefully tugs it free. She doesn’t let her fingers touch Katya’s skin, though, hums thoughtfully as the towel drops to the floor and she drinks in the sight in front of her, the light filtering in through the kitchen blinds catching soft blonde hair on her thighs, pointy bones jutting out of her hips and the slightest soft curve to her taut stomach, her nipples are hard and the veins in her arms are standing out where she’s gripping the table so hard, biceps protruding against soft skin. Trixie doesn’t know where to start and she extends a hand, Katya whines low in her throat when she reaches past her to anchor herself against the table as well, so close to her they’re sharing breath.

“You look so fucking good right now,” she whispers, knows Katya can feel the words against her dry lips just like Trixie can feel her heavy panting against her chin.

“Trix…”

“You want me to touch you?” Trixie says it like it’s a question, her voice is soft and curls around the words carefully and Katya’s head falls back slightly and her eyes are closed, the curve of her throat is exposed and Trixie could lean in and kiss it so easily, set her teeth against it and leave marks like when they were giddy teenagers so caught up in each other that they didn’t care who saw. Now, Trixie likes to leave her marks where no one else can share them. Trixie watches a bead of sweat as it runs from Katya’s neck down, between the curves of her breasts and over her stomach, she wants to lick its path but she doesn’t, steps back instead and grasps the hem of her own loose summer dress, tugs it over her head. Katya’s eyes open at the sound and she reaches towards her as Trixie tosses the damp fabric to the floor and stands in front of her in a bra that’s slightly too small and a thong that doesn’t match, Katya’s looking at her like she’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen and Trixie fights the urge to squeeze her thighs together. 

Katya’s fingertips almost reach her side and Trixie takes another step back, their eyes meet and things are still for a second, there’s nothing in the world except for the rise and fall of Katya’s chest, Trixie’s own heartbeat against her ribcage.

“Don’t touch,” she says, reaches behind herself to pop open her bra and lets the straps fall down her arms, it dangles from one wrist before she tosses it aside, hooks her thumbs into the lace at the sides of her hips and pushes down, steps forward and brackets her arms around Katya against the table. She leans in a little awkwardly, tilts her head until she can press her lips against Katya’s without touching her, she can tell Katya’s practically vibrating with tension and she doesn’t want to give into it yet even with her own arousal burning heavy in the pit of her stomach. She kisses her slow, leaning back every time Katya gets impatient, lets her teeth nip at the line of her lip and grins at the impatient, desperate noises that roll off her tongue every time she pulls back. Her cheeks are delightfully pink, full lips plumper than usual and when Trixie lets herself brush her fingertips lightly over her hair to push it back behind her shoulders she can tell that Katya’s biting the inside of her cheek, sharp jaw highlighted.

Once Katya’s hair is tucked neatly behind her, Trixie can’t help but run her fingers over the curve of her shoulders, hardly touching at all, really, skimming down her arms and across the sensitive insides of her elbows, over her wrists, she’s giving Katya what she wants, just barely, and she sees the way her breath hitches in the rise and fall of her chest, she doesn’t hear it over the thrum of her blood throbbing hot in her ears. Trixie’s head drops slightly until she’s breathing heavy against Katya’s neck, leaving fleeting touches against the narrow curve to her hips and the rounded points of her spine, dips over her bellybutton and back up again, ignoring the small swell of her tits to slide her fingers over the line of her neck, she knows every inch of her so well it’s as easy as breathing even with her eyes mostly closed. Katya still isn’t touching her, and Trixie’s sure that if she looked at the table she’d see crescent marks dug in already from Katya’s nails digging in so deep. Her head’s tipped all the way back, her hair is still dripping against the tabletop and maybe it’s going to stain the dark wood but Trixie can’t think of anything she’s ever cared about less right now when she can run her dry lips along the underside of her jaw, let the flat of her tongue drag against skin that’s a little salty with sweat.

There’s a beat of silence, Trixie feels like she’s caught in some kind of fever dream in the damp, sticky air of their new kitchen, new apartment, new little life they get to build for themselves here, and Katya’s surrounding her, suffocating her without even laying a finger on her, and then the moment’s broken when Katya _moans_ , deep and rumbling through her, through Trixie, too, and something deep in her core snaps and Trixie’s grasping at her thighs, pushing her back and up against the table. Katya understands what she wants immediately, she always does, pushes off the balls of her feet and hops onto the table, her arms hook around Trixie’s neck finally, _finally_ , and for a moment in between all of her weight is on Trixie, she’s slight but solid in her arms, she’s the lightest weight Trixie’s ever carried. Then Katya’s sat in front of her, they’re nose to nose and sweaty forehead to sweaty forehead, her arms are pressing Trixie’s hair against the back of her neck where it’s poofed up and frizzed in the summer air. Katya’s legs fall open and Trixie slots herself in between them naturally, instinctively, Katya’s strong thighs come up to squeeze around the sides of her legs, they’ve gone from letting an inch of torturous space between them drive them insane to sharing heavy breaths as Katya pulls her into an open mouthed kiss, their skin is pressed together at every possible point and Trixie could never get enough of this moment if it lasted for the rest of her life, she’s sure of it.

Now that Katya’s holding her close she lets her hands roam again, and this time she takes the opportunity to squeeze her fingers into the perfect curve of her ass, graze her palms over firm thighs and let them drift up to cup her breasts, her thumbs brush over her hard nipples before she squeezes one, almost pinches and feels the way Katya’s thighs tighten in response. Her hands slide down Trixie’s back, over the sweaty skin between her shoulder blades, fingertips dancing either side of her spine, their breathing isn’t quite in sync and Trixie’s chest presses into Katya’s ribs. Katya’s hands find her ass and squeeze, her fingers press into her skin, Katya is somehow obsessed with her ass still, after all the years they’ve had together, she never misses an opportunity to squeeze or smack or pinch when she can and nothing makes her prouder than when she manages to surprise Trixie with it. She’s kissing Trixie hard, hungry, the air around them is so hot and it feels like the world is on fire and the last thing Katya wants to do before it burns out is kiss her until they run out of breath.

Trixie’s not complaining.

The table rocks a little as Trixie pulls Katya closer to its edge, she pushes her thighs further apart and runs her palm lightly over the inside of her leg, from behind her knee inwards. She stops short just by the juncture of her thigh, hovers for a long moment and Katya pulls her lips away from hers, she’s panting hard and slender fingers wrap around Trixie’s wrist, tugging impatiently.

“Trixie. Fucking _touch me_.” The words come out as practically a snarl and Trixie lets her guide her hand to her, she’s radiating heat and she’s fucking drenched when Trixie finally touches her, she groans against Katya’s lip and bites down a little on her lip, her fingers slip between her folds and she rubs slowly between her clit and her entrance, traces little circles over slick flesh before she focuses her attention on her swollen clit. She almost feels bad for working her up this bad, almost because she knows that Katya fucking loves it, loves the tease and the torture of it. And Trixie likes to tease her, get her right to the edge of her orgasm and then pulls back just enough, it’s a game she likes to play with herself, really, test herself on how well she can read the cues Katya gives her in the way her thighs tremble or her grip tightens on Trixie’s arm (or hair or shoulder or ass, wherever she’s holding onto), when the breathy little moans she always makes go up just that little bit higher, almost turn into whines, she knows them all so well and it’s a challenge to make herself stop when she wants to see the way Katya’s nose crinkles up, her eyebrows pull together, her lips part and she tightens around Trixie’s fingers. Now she's got her pushed close to the edge, two fingers curling inside her while she rubs careful circles over her clit with her thumb, Katya’s mouth is open against hers but they’re not kissing anymore, not really, Katya’s breathing hard and uneven against her and she can feel her jaw twitch as she pushes her hips up against Trixie desperately. Every time Trixie moves her hand she can hear how wet she is over the sounds of their breathing and the hum of the crappy ac as it stutters and stops every few minutes, it turns her on _so fucking much_ to able to tell so obviously how turned on Katya is by Trixie, _for Trixie_. Then Katya’s whimpers get a little higher and Trixie forces herself to stop, to keep her hand still, her fingers are still buried inside her but she doesn’t move them, her thumb pauses against her and Katya’s squirming, wiggling towards her until she’s practically hanging off the edge of the table, her hand comes up to grip Trixie’s elbow hard and Trixie’s grinning even as she’s panting, trying to look at Katya’s expression without pulling back from her, her eyes cross a little and she must look ridiculous but she doubts that Katya could even recognize her right in front of her if she had to right now, she’s so worked up.

Trixie pulls back from her slow, sliding her hands down the slick insides of Katya’s thighs, she sinks down on trembling legs and she isn’t sure at first that it’s going to work with the height of the table, but if she stays on her knees with her thighs upright it works perfectly, she squeezes around the side of one knee and Katya hooks her calves over her shoulders, pulling her closer, the table creaks at the movement. Trixie looks up at her, Katya’s eyes are half lidded and her lips are swollen, she looks fucked out and Trixie can’t help but grin at the sight of her, she uses the grin to set her teeth against tender flesh at the top of Katya’s thigh, bites just enough to make her whine, to leave a mark no one else will know is there except for the two of them. Trixie looks up again and Katya’s eyes focus in on her, the world narrows down into the most intense tunnel-vision and Trixie doesn’t look away as she pulls her lips back from her, she can see the way her breasts are heaving with every breath and her hands are holding so tight onto the table, her spine is curved and Trixie can’t help but pull her closer with the hand holding the back of her knee, thumb smoothing over sensitive skin. Katya’s weight is balanced on the edge of the table and it creaks again and then it tips, the legs furthest from them rise off the floor slights and Trixie can’t help the way she shrieks in surprise, too started to even try to right it again.

For a moment it feels like Trixie’s life flashes before her eyes as the table wobbles in front of her, she’s sure it’s going to fall on her and it’s going to crush her, she’s going to die right fucking here on the fucking floor of their brand new fucking apartment on the same fucking day they move in and she’s completely naked, of course she is, surely Katya will have the sense to put some clothes on her before she calls 911, maybe Trixie needs to make her promise that she’ll do that for her if this ever happens again. She leans back, sits on her ass against the cool tile while Katya scrambles to push the table back into place, slips onto the balls of her feet and twists around to grab its sides, tips it back onto four legs with strong hands and Trixie's breathing heavy and fast and her heart is still racing. Katya looks slow from the table to Trixie, her body's shaking and then she's laughing, kneeling in front of Trixie and laughing so hard that Trixie has to join in as her heartbeat slows back down.

"I thought it was gonna fall on me!"

"You looks so scared, oh my god—"

"It was scary!" Trixie grabs at Katya's wrists, still laughing, she pulls her in to kiss her, the heat of the moment is gone for a second or two but then she's kissing her back hard even though Trixie can feel that she's still smiling.

"I wouldn't have let it fall on you," she says when she pulls back.

“I know,” Trixie says, “the universe is determined to stop you coming, I think.”

“I think you’re just determined to be a tease,” Katya replies, her hands come up to Trixie’s jaw and it’s sweaty palms against sweaty skin but Trixie leans into her touch anyway.

“No, it’s the universe. It’s homophobic,” Trixie insists, and Katya laughs at that, her fingers push up and back into Trixie's hair, over the sweat at her hairline, she kisses her one more time before she stands up, pulls Trixie up with her strength that always makes her stomach flip, walks her through to the bedroom. It’s a little cooler in here, the big windows are covered with heavy blinds and Trixie has to laugh when she sees the bed, Katya clearly attempted to make it up but got frustrated or bored or whatever so the sheets are hanging off one corner. Katya turns to look at her when she laughs, opens her mouth to say something, but Trixie pulls her against her instead and kisses her deep, hooks her hands around her elbows and steps into her until Katya has to walk back and sit down on the uncovered bed. She tugs Trixie down over her and hums against her lips as she lets her weight settle on her thighs, Trixie nudges her shoulders until she lies back flat against the mattress, they have to shift around a little to make room for each other but eventually Trixie has space to kneel between her thighs.

They’re safely laid out on the bed now and Trixie doesn’t have to worry about anything falling on her, which is nice, the insides of Katya’s thighs are sticky by now and she can already see her skin darkening slightly at the spot where Trixie used her teeth before, she presses her lips to the mark and takes a moment to lap at her skin, takes in the familiar taste of her and a little bit of the salt from the sweat on her skin, but it really is only a moment, she likes to tease Katya but this has lasted a lot longer than she expected it to. So she presses a last kiss to the blossoming bruise on her inner thigh and finally puts her mouth to her, running her tongue over her folds while she pushes into her with two fingers again, wiggles a little until she finds the angle that always works to press her fingertips against her g-spot. Katya’s hips come up off the mattress and Trixie anchors them back down with her free hand, squeezing around her hip lightly as she massages her clit with her tongue. Katya’s fingers push into her hair, she doesn’t grip too tight but she pulls a little and it makes Trixie moan against her, the flat of her tongue vibrating slightly with it against her clit. Katya’s fingers tighten in her hair, she’s pulling Trixie in closer to her and pushing up against Trixie’s hand on her hip, Trixie can imagine the way her abs her abs must be tensed to arch her back like that, it’s a really hot fucking image and Trixie’s already soaked but it still turns her on even more. She wants to touch herself, her whole body’s throbbing with it, but she resists the urge and focuses on Katya instead, hooking her forearm tighter around her hip to hold her steady while Katya’s nails drag against her scalp, Trixie’s hair is tangled between strong fingers.

Katya’s murmuring something in Russian now and Trixie’s not stupid, she knows whose benefit that’s for, Katya speaks Russian so rarely these days when she’s not with her family that’s it’s not like she slips into it often, but she knows exactly what the sound of her speaking it does to Trixie, it goes straight through her to her core until she’s ready to unravel with it. She exhales through her nose, breathing heavy against Katya and Katya’s thighs are trembling beneath her, Trixie can feel them shaking against her forearm as she fucks her, she knows she’s close, and when she tips over she comes with a shout, tightens around Trixie’s fingers and her back arches up, Trixie replaces her tongue with her thumb against her clit until Katya pushes her hand away with a clumsy push, her hand slips out of Trixie’s hair and rests on her own stomach, when Trixie pushes herself up on her forearms she can see that her eyes are closed and she huffs out an amused puff of air, all too familiar with Katya’s tendency to pass right out as soon as she comes.

Trixie wriggles up the bed until she can lie beside Katya on her side, right up close to her so that she can feel the rise and fall of her breathing against Trixie’s skin. Her fingers are wet and she sucks them into her mouth, hums around them and Katya cracks an eye open to look over at her. Trixie doesn’t move, keeps eye contact with her as Katya opens her other eye and considers her for a moment, then rolls lazily towards her until she’s close enough to pull Trixie’s wrist away and kiss her, it’s slow and messy and she must be able to taste herself on Trixie’s puffy lips and then she pushes one thigh between Trixie’s. Trixie ruts against her, she can’t help it, moans into her mouth when Katya wraps an arm around her to grasp at her ass and hold her body close against her, her other hand moves down between them and she slides two fingers into her easily, fucking her quick and hard. She pushes a third finger in then, knows Trixie likes the way it burns just a little at first. Trixie rocks against her fingers, grasping at Katya’s shoulder in some attempt to anchor herself, the tension in the bottom of her stomach is building and building and building and then she’s coming, bearing down against Katya’s fingers while Katya kisses her through her orgasm, runs her hand up from her ass over her spine and buries her fingers in her sweaty curls. When she finally pulls her hand back from her Trixie’s panting and she can’t open her eyes, her lids feel too heavy. 

They stay like that for a long moment, breathing into each other’s mouths as Trixie’s body relaxes, she’s sure she could fall asleep, just for five minutes, maybe, and then she realizes that Katya’s laughing. 

“I can’t believe the table nearly fell on you,” she says, and Trixie groans, shoves lightly at her shoulder. Katya doesn’t budge, keeps her close so that their bodies are lined up neatly, Katya’s toes nudge at her shin, it’s way too hot and they’re both too sweaty to stay pressed this close together but Trixie can’t bring herself to pull away, doesn’t want to, really.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, and Katya laughs again, Trixie doesn’t open her eyes but she’s smiling, she can’t help herself. Katya kisses the corner of her lips where they’re curving at the side, just lightly, her fingers are running through her hair and Trixie sighs, soft and happy. There aren’t any sheets on the bed, but that’s okay, for now. She doesn’t even have a pillow but she shifts over until she can rest her cheek against Katya’s bicep, it’s not all that soft but it’ll do. She’s just going to close her eyes for a few minutes, they arrived early in the morning and she’s been unpacking all day in the heat, it makes sense that she needs to rest for a little while. She can already feel that Katya’s body is slack against hers, she did well to stay awake this long, Trixie’s a little impressed, and she’s still smiling as she dozes off.

 

***

 

Trixie spends the first couple of weeks or so in LA feeling like she’s in a pleasant daydream, finding her feet in a new city and starting to piece together the foundations of their new life here. They made sure to move with plenty of time before Katya had to start at her new job, so they can have a little time to explore and settle in without the weight of work hanging over them. Trixie spends a lot of time decorating the apartment to make it feel like home, she already likes it a lot even if it’s small and she doesn’t trust the table in the kitchen anymore, she gives it wary looks whenever Katya leans against or tries to put anything heavy on it and it always makes her laugh. So she avoids the table and instead maybe goes a little overboard on finding things for the rest of the apartment, on the first day Katya goes in to meet her new colleagues about a month before the school year’s set the begin she spends the morning getting some of her art from college framed and then hangs the pieces on the wall herself with a hammer and nails and everything, precariously balanced on the arm of the couch to do it, she’s pretty proud of herself because usually she’d leave that kind of thing to Katya but she wants it to be a surprise. It is, and Katya pretends to be embarrassed when she sees them in the apartment but Trixie knows she loves it really.

And Trixie’s supposed to be looking for a job, she knows she is, but it’s hard to find the motivation when Katya doesn’t start work for weeks still, they still have a little of their first California Summer left together and she doesn’t want to lose that to some shitty job. A small part of her is scared that the bubble will burst as soon as she sorts her shit out, she’ll realize that nothing has changed and all the worries swirling in her brain in Chicago have followed her to LA. Katya knows it, just like she always does, she can read Trixie like an open book and sometimes she hates it but most of the time she’s grateful, like when she tries to suggest one morning that maybe she should try to find some vacancies, send out some applications, and Katya just looks at her for a long moment, sometimes she has a way of staring right through Trixie until it’s almost uncomfortable, and then she’s grinning, throwing back the sheets and announcing that it’s no kind of day to spend inside (it’s never any kind of day to spend inside in California, they’ve found so far). She drags Trixie on a hike Alaska’s told her about, not that Trixie puts up any kind of fight, lets her plug her phone into the car and blast tinny Dolly songs through the speakers with the windows down, she never normally joins in with Trixie when she sings along with the music but today she has Trixie shouting with laughter as she sings along to Jolene, grinning over at Trixie whenever she can. It’s too hot for any kind of hike, really, and by the time they get home Trixie’s sweaty and Katya’s sweatier when she presses Trixie against the inside of their door and wipes her mind clean of anything other than _Katya, Katya, Katya_.

Trixie’s still trying to figure out what to do with her life. It’s not like everything is magically different in LA, even if it might feel like it sometimes, when she’s sat thigh to thigh, side to side with Katya on their tiny balcony in the sinking dusk of a warm summer night, legs dangling between the rusted bars and she’s trying her best to shield her little flower boxes from clouds of cigarette smoke while Katya laughs at her, but Trixie picked them all out herself and planted them, dirt got under her carefully painted nails while she promised to help them grow big and strong and pretty, Katya nudges the side of one foot against Trixie’s and then hooks their ankles together and Trixie smiles, closes her eyes and relaxes to the sounds of life going on below them while their little world stays still for a moment, up in their own private atmosphere. She still needs to find a job, maybe even another crappy one in a bar while she figures out where she’s going to go from here. She’s still lost, really, that hasn’t changed. But maybe, she thinks, this is as good a place as any to feel lost in.

 

***

 

The worst part of moving to LA is probably being so far away from Kim. She's Trixie's best friend and when they lived in Chicago it was easy to see her for impromptu catch-ups over too big iced coffees or go for lunch together and bicker over paying for extra guac at Chipotle. Even when they were in college they weren't far apart, Trixie could easily take a train from Milwaukee and see Kim in Chicago and she did it a lot, especially in that shitty last year when she probably leaned on Kim too much through everything that was going on, showing up to stay on her couch for the weekend whenever she needed to avoid reality. Now they're practically on opposites of the damn country, almost, and Trixie's in no position to start paying for flights back to Chicago just to see Kim.

Still, Kim's doing pretty well for herself. Trixie remembers watching her first vlogs when she started posting them, Kim's lisp more noticeable with her nerves as she talked through her makeup routine, eyes constantly flickering to her shitty cell phone camera. People obviously saw something they liked, though, and Kim's been steadily racking up followers on Instagram and Twitter and Youtube over the years, she even gets people who want to send her their makeup for free so that she'll try it out on camera, sometimes Trixie's obscenely jealous of how much fun she seems to have doing her job, and she gets paid a ton in ad money and maybe she's going to quit her job soon, but the point of it all is that she has enough money and time to visit them in LA for a few days towards the end of the summer. Katya's in full planning mode by now with the new school year approaching, sitting directly in front of the extra fan they caved in and bought after fighting with the a/c for the first few weeks they moved in and drafting out lesson plans and project ideas and she took Trixie with her to help set up for her classes at her new school, Trixie met her new colleagues with her and they seemed nice enough, Katya's nervous to start at a new place but she's excited, too, and Trixie can tell the excitement is keeping the worst of her anxiety at bay for now. Maybe that won't be the case closer to the beginning of the semester, but they can cross that bridge when they come to it, they've always managed to figure it out before.

Trixie meets Kim at the airport and Kim hugs her so tight anyone would think that they've been away from each other for years instead of barely more than a month. Sometimes Trixie forgets that even though, yeah, Katya knows her better than anyone else, Kim’s known her longer, the two of them share memories of things that happened to them before Trixie had ever even met Katya. Kim’s like her sister, really, and Trixie hasn’t seen her actual sister in almost two years, not since the last time Trixie went back to Milwaukee for their grandmother’s funeral. She hadn’t wanted to go back, not really, and it's certainly not something she's planning on doing again any time soon, but she had nice memories of her Grandma Mabel from when she was small and she’d stay with her when her siblings were toddlers and Trixie was underfoot at home, and her grandmother would fuss over her, make her feel like Trixie was her favourite and make her forget what she was going home to. She played her her first Dolly album, brushed her blonde curls gently and tied them up with pretty pink ribbons while Heartbreak Express played in the background, let Trixie run around in her pretty pink dresses her mom would never let her wear in case in they got dirty in the rough and tumble of the Milwaukee fields. She taught her her first chords when she was old enough to hold her grandfather's guitar, and sometimes when she's driving or lying on their couch in the quiet and her playlist skips to the next track, she hears a familiar voice sing about her _coat of many colors_ and all she has to do is close her eyes and she's back there again, holding her guitar for the first time and clumsily trying to pluck at the strings. Trixie's still got that same guitar that was always too big in her arms when she was small, now it fits just right and Trixie loves it now just as much as she did back then, holds it with the same care and reverence it still deserves, it was given to her with love and she still feels it radiating through the sounds that come from it when she guides her fingers across the strings.

So Trixie had gone back to Milwaukee for the funeral and her family had been there and she’d wished she’d let Katya go with her once she got there, felt stupid for letting her embarrassment at the idea of Katya seeing what her family were like get to her because it would have been so much easier with Katya by her side, whispering stupid jokes in her ear and holding her hand. Her siblings had grown up so much and they talked to her like she was some distant relative instead of the sister who’d helped them with their homework and fought with them and helped teach them how the world worked, and it wasn’t like she’d expected anyone to welcome her with open arms but she’d still come home to Katya in Chicago with an aching heart and a reminder that her family wasn’t really her family anymore. But Kim is like her sister, she is her sister, as good as, she loves her just the same, and they spend the entire drive back to the apartment from the airport when she picks her up talking about Kim's work and Max's Instagram posts and whether Pearl and Violet are talking again, maybe, they're not sure, Pearl's always so cagey when either of them try to talk to her about it, and Trixie complains about the traffic with the newfound pride of a Real LA Citizen. 

Trixie’s booked them a table at a nice vegetarian place she’s been trying to wrangle Katya into going to with her for weeks for dinner, on the way back to the apartment they stopped by the office of some up-and-coming makeup brand that wanted Kim to use their stuff in her videos, they’d spent a half hour talking to the owner about how much she loved Kim and Trixie’s makeup and Trixie spent the whole time with the most ridiculous fluffy cat in her lap, his name was Turkey and she fell a little bit in love with him and somehow managed to come away with almost as many new products as Kim. So now Kim’s decided that she wants to record a new video while she’s here, before they have to leave for dinner, and she’s trying to find a good spot in their tiny little apartment where she’ll get good lighting.

“Maybe I should do your makeup for this one, instead of doing my own. Since I’m here, right?” she suggests to Trixie, holding her phone out by the light coming in front the doors to the balcony and squinting as she gauges the quality of the picture she’s getting. Trixie screws up her nose, thinks back to the times she let Kim do her makeup for her over the years, Kim always whined at her at school when she was really getting into all of her makeup stuff and asked _can I please do your eyebrows? Please, Trixie, just let me do your eyebrows_ over and over again until Trixie gave in and let her, then made every effort to cover her forehead all day just to spite her. Kim looks over and rolls her eyes, clearly spots her uncertainty. “Maybe not. I don’t think I could fix this enough to make a good video,” she decides, waving vaguely at Trixie’s face and making Katya laugh from where she’s perched on the counter, torso half twisted around and leaning awkwardly so she can smoke through the little window above the kitchen sink, Trixie doesn’t understand why she does it when she could sit on the balcony but maybe some habits are hard to break. Kim turns her attention to Katya instead of Trixie, watching her tap her cigarette with her finger so that its ash drops onto the outside sill. Kim’s head is tilted slightly, she looks considering, and Trixie grins as she realizes exactly what Kim’s thinking. “It would probably work better to paint someone who doesn’t normally wear as much makeup as we do…someone who still wears that same drug store foundation from ten years ago…” 

It takes Katya a moment to realize that they’re looking at her and then she shifts around, cigarette still dangling from her lips.

“What’s wrong with my makeup?” she says, and Kim laughs, her eyes are lit up and Trixie just sits down at the table, props her elbows against its surface (gives it a wary glance first, makes sure it's steady under her weight) and sets her chin in her hands to watch. 

“Do you really want me to start listing things, or…?” Kim trails off and Katya makes an outraged noise, exhales smoke through her nose and stubs her cigarette out against the window frame, tosses it out into the air before Trixie has a chance to tell her not to.

“Are you planning on defending me, or are you just going to sit there?” Katya asks, looking pointedly at Trixie. She can see the humour in her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Can you teach her how to use a damn beautyblender?” Trixie says to Kim, Katya throws her arms up comically and Trixie and Kim are laughing at her. “You leave foundation fingerprints on everything and it’s _gross_. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“It’s so unnecessary. You’re throwing your money away!” Katya insists. “It’s no different when you use your hands, you just rub it in—”

“Please, stop talking,” Kim says, fanning her face with one hand and feigning nausea. “It’s like we’re back in the 1950s, I swear. Technology’s moved on, Katya.” Katya laughs, throwing her head back before she hops off the counter.

“Fine, bitch. Do whatever you want,” she says, dropping down into the chair beside Trixie and lifting her legs to drape them over Trixie’s lap. Trixie absent-mindedly squeezes firm calves, Katya wiggles her toes and the backs of her heels press into the side of Trixie’s thigh.

“I can’t wait to see what she does to you,” she says, while Kim lays out the new products they picked up on the way home and looks over them with a critical eye, glancing over to Katya as she decides which ones to use on her. “She’s going to make you colourful! I’m not going to recognize you!”

“Trixie, will you help me?” Kim asks, lining up eye shadows and setting aside a deep red lipstick Trixie knows Katya will steal away for herself when she spots it.

“You want me to help you paint her?” she says, surprised.

“You know her face better than I do,” Kim points out. Katya’s looking at her with wide eyes, like maybe she can’t decide if this is a good idea or a terrible one. “You guys must have done each other’s makeup before, right?” 

“Never.”

“No way.” They speak at the same time and Kim looks surprised at the certainty in their voices.

“Never?” she repeats. Trixie shrugs, looking over at Katya. She shrugs too. "Really? You've never even tried each other's styles?"

"I couldn't pull off the raccoon look," Trixie says, then tilts her head a little in consideration. "Well, it's not like she can, either. But I've never tried it." Katya's bony fingers find the spot under her ribs that always make her squeak and she's laughing as Trixie squirms away from her, pulling her hands away from her side but not letting go of them once they're wrapped in her own.

"You two are so disgusting," Kim says, shaking her head at them. She's gathered some of the books Katya uses in her planning from the low coffee table in the lounge, stacks them on kitchen table to make a stand for her phone. Trixie lifts them off immediately and Katya laughs at her, takes them from Trixie's hands and puts them down again.

"Put them right in the middle," Trixie says, nudging them into the centre and giving the table a light push to see if it'll budge. It doesn't, and she leans back in her chair again.

"What's your problem with the table?" Kim asks, giving her a weird look as she props her phone up carefully, steps back to assess the picture she gets from the front camera.

"It's a long story," Trixie mumbles, giving the stupid thing a dirty look and making Katya laugh low in her chest, she has to press the fingers of one hand to her lips to contain the noise. Kim rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, you're so weird. Are you going to help me?"

Trixie looks over at Katya and she shrugs again, there's still a little smile on her face from where she was laughing, hollowing her cheeks and pulling at the little lines she's already got around the corners of her eyes, she's always laughing, and Kim wasn't wrong when she said Trixie knew her face best.

"Sure," she agrees, pushing on Katya's legs until she lets them drop from her lap, stands up to help Kim pick out the right shades of products. "This'll be too light," she says, pushing the foundation Kim's chosen aside and selecting a new one from the ridiculously oversized makeup bag she's set on the counter. "Look at her stupid tan, we only just moved here and she's already turning to leather." Katya wheeze laughs from her seat and Trixie grins, Katya grins back at her.

 

***

 

Kim talks to her phone camera like it's her best friend by now, used to the weirdness of explaining what she's doing to no one at all, and Trixie hovers over the products they've laid out on the counter while she chats away, explains where she is and who they are, Trixie lines up everything neatly side by side in order to distract herself from the initial awkwardness. Katya doesn't seem to care, she never does, she's leaned back in her chair and she has her feet propped up on the edge of the second one, she's watching Kim as she talks. Trixie knows her stuff when it comes to makeup, how could she not after so many years of perfecting her own look, but Kim knows exactly what to do to make sure she shows the products just right, enunciates the names of everything and angles herself so that the camera gets everything she's doing clearly. Trixie just takes every product Kim thrusts at her, she lets Trixie handle foundation while she does her eye shadow since Trixie knows Katya's bone structure, understands just how little she has to do to contour sharp cheekbones and a pointy nose.

"Trixie, you do her eyeliner. She's bad at keeping still and I'd rather you stabbed her in the eye than me," Kim says. Trixie laughs and nods, picks up an eye pencil from the counter and uncaps it before she leans over Katya's face again.

“Trixie’s the expert on making your eyes look bigger,” Kim says, scanning the line of products for something to use on her eyebrows. Her gaze flickers up to Trixie as she picks up an eyebrow pencil and Trixie smirks at her, Kim huffs out a laugh and Trixie brings the eyeliner pencil in her hand down around the edge of Katya’s lower lid, deftly lining under her eyelashes.

“Oh, well. It’s just about how you line them. I don’t have to do much to Katya’s, because her eyes are already pretty big,” Trixie says, carefully filling the inside corner of Katya’s eye in with a white eye shadow. She can see the way her nose twitches, it’s probably tickling her, and she smooths her thumb lightly over the underside of her eye as a distraction. “You can do it differently depending on your eye shape, or the kind of look you're going for, it’s all relative.”

“Ohhh, don’t you start talking about relatives right now, you promised to nix the sexy talk while Kim’s recording.” Katya’s got a wicked grin on her face and Trixie groans, while Kim lets out a surprised laugh.

“Don’t start this again—”

“Cousins are fine!”

“Cousins are not fine!”

“I’m gay, it’s not like there’s gonna be any six fingered children!" 

“That’s not the point!”

"That's totally the point!"

"I'm not getting into this, I swear to _god_ , I—"

“Why does this sounds like an argument you have a lot?” Kim interjects, Trixie had all but forgotten she was there and she can tell from the way Katya’s eyes are dancing, mischievous glint obvious in them, that that was her goal all along, she’s such a bitch. Trixie laughs, she has to, Katya's skinny hand finds her thigh and squeezes lightly, 

"No way, nuh uh. No groping allowed unless you're going to grope both of us," Kim complains, leaning over to swat Katya's hand away from Trixie's leg. 

"Just because you're a desperate virgin," Trixie replies, making Katya wheeze with laughter while Kim makes an indignant noise.

When they're done and Kim's let her camera get a good shot of the look they've created, she stops to do a quick rundown of the products they've used and talk about how good they are, she isn't focused on Trixie and Katya anymore and Trixie gets the chance to get a good look at Katya's face. She never wears this much make up and she barely looks like herself, her eyes are bigger and bluer than normal and the angles of her face are carefully highlighter, lips overlined and a darker shade of red than usual, closer to brown than the bright reds Katya usually favours.

"How do I look?" Katya asks with a comical wiggle of her eyebrows, bright white grin brighter and whiter against the dark lipstick.

“Honey…oh, honey,” Trixie says, she’s trying not to laugh as she picks up her phone and turns on the camera, holds it up in front of Katya to let her see for herself. She takes herself in, then looks over at Trixie. They're silent for a second.

“Oh, _honey_ ,” Katya echoes, and then they're both laughing, Katya's creasing up with it and she grabs Trixie's wrist, holding tight.

"You look so stupid," Trixie splutters and Katya nods, laughing too hard to speak, Kim stops talking and ends the video, turns to look at them.

"You're idiots. Why did I think this was a good idea?" she says, sounding fond but exasperated all the same. Trixie laughs harder, leaning into Katya and feeling her body shake with mirth as Kim watches them, mystified.

 

***

 

Kim flies home two days later and uploads the post of the two of them doing Katya’s makeup for her when she's arrived home and had a chance to edit it all together, Trixie’s supposed to be looking online for jobs but she’s far more interested in watching the video. There’s a little snippet of it posted on Kim’s Instagram and the entire thing goes up on her Youtube page and Trixie keeps both of them open in a tab, she’s using Katya’s laptop since she’s back at school for the day, setting things up. Kim's edited out the section at the end of the two of them laughing hysterically, and the finished thing actually looks pretty good. Trixie thinks she keeps up with Kim okay, her jokes land pretty well and Katya's makeup looks objectively good. Objectively. Trixie still thinks she looks weird as hell all made up, she’s used to her spidery lashes that leave little marks under her eyes by the time she's ready to take her makeup off at the end of the day and bright red lipstick with a liner that's a shade too dark when Katya can be bothered to use it at all.

There are plenty of comments on the video because Kim has somehow amassed an alarming amount of followers, and at first Trixie's convinced that she's not going to look at them, but then she scrolls down, completely by accident, of course, and figures it can't hurt to read a few. People seem to like her, they like her makeup that's kind of like Kim's, they like her dress and she does, too, it was one of her favourites, with the frilly sleeves, and they like her stupid jokes. People point out moments they like and she watches the video again, she's smiling as she watches the way Katya smiles at her as she makes fun of her, jokes about covering up her wrinkles. Her job search is completely (conveniently) forgotten and she's been gaining followers on Instagram and Twitter all afternoon, ever since the video went up. People are liking all of her pictures, a lot of them are liking the one she put up of her and Katya on their balcony from the very first night they moved in, when they'd slept away half of the afternoon and finally dragged themselves out to find dinner and then stayed on the balcony late into the night until it was fully dark, Trixie had been so enchanted by the city around them and the clear sky up above that she could have stayed out all night even when her ass went numb against the hard floor. She watches the video again, retweets it and replies to some of the tweets people have sent her complimenting her makeup, she definitely uses the clown emoji too many times but there's a lot of messages to reply to and she gets a little lazy with it.

When Katya gets home they go to meet Alaska for dinner, she's mellowed since school and Trixie likes seeing how well Katya gets along with her. They were never all that close in school but now that they're all in LA they've gotten closer, there's a nice group of them in the city and Trixie likes getting to see Alaska and the other girls who’ve ended up out here more. They're not home too late but Katya's tired from a day of rearranging desks and setting up displays, Trixie's more than happy to curl up in bed with her and entertain herself on her phone while she sleeps early, maybe she'll take a look at the comments on the video again and see if people are still liking things on her Instagram.

"What did you think of the video?” Katya asks when she sits down beside her on the bed, because of course she’s already seen it. She plugs her phone into its charger, sets an alarm for the morning that makes Trixie pull a face at how early it is. Sometimes she wonders how on earth she would up with a girlfriend who’d actually sign herself up for an early morning yoga class like some kind of sadist.

“It was good! I liked it, my hair looked good,” Trixie says, shrugging. She’s not quite sure why she’s pretending she doesn’t care as much as she does, but she knows she can’t look at Katya or she’ll crack. Not that it matters; Katya wriggles over close to her until their sides line up, and Trixie can feel her eyes on her. Trixie tries to stay strong, draws her knees up to her chest, but then Katya plants an elbow on her knee and Trixie can see in the corner of her eye that she’s got her chin cupped in her palm, she’s waiting for Trixie to look at her.

“Don’t!” Trixie whines, turning her head to press her face into her safe spot at the curve of Katya’s collarbone where the soft hollow of her neck meets her shoulder. Katya lets out a breathy little laugh, strokes Trixie’s damp hair, kisses her temple.

“How many times have you watched it?” she asks, her strong arms wrap around Trixie and she feels safe, protected from the world for a moment, she always does like this.

“Too many,” Trixie admits, glad her face is hidden. She could probably recite the dam thing by this point, anticipate every stupid comment Katya makes to try to get her to laugh or every time Trixie manages to say something about what they’re doing that Kim hadn’t even thought to point out.

“You’re so happy in it. I love that. You know just as much about it all as Kim does,” Katya says, rubbing idle circles against Trixie’s lower back. “People love you.”

“Hm,” Trixie hums, non-committal, even as Katya’s words make her lips curl up into a smile. She was happy, she’s right. It was nice to do something she enjoyed. 

“I have a story for you, actually,” Katya says, her fingers are playing the hair at the top of Trixie’s neck, she can tell it’s pulling strands out of her ponytail but it doesn’t matter.

“What is it?” she asks.

“It turns out that Kim has a lot more fans than I realized,” Katya says. Trixie lifts her head.

“What?”

“I found a couple of people watching the video in the teacher’s lounge before I left. They were very…entertained by our conversation.”

“No!” Trixie gasps, sitting up straight and gaping at Katya. “They recognized you? I mean, duh, of course they did. But – oh my god,” Trixie trails off and Katya nods, she knows exactly what part Trixie’s thinking of, thankfully she looks amused by the whole thing. “All that stuff you said…” Trixie can’t help but laugh even as she brings a hand to her mouth, feeling her eyes widen.

“I had to clarify to everyone at my new job that I have never fucked any of my cousins,” Katya says, and Trixie snorts.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” she says, settling back in against her. 

“I think it broke the ice pretty well, actually,” Katya replies, shrugging. “Good not to set the expectations too high when it comes to inappropriate family relations. Besides, now they all think I can introduce them to Kim Chi and her cute friend.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Trixie says, rolling her eyes.

“They do! They were asking me who you were and how I knew you and Kim.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Oh, I held out on some of it. It’s good to keep some good stories to tell in finals week when everyone’s stressed and wants to take it out on the art teacher who doesn’t have to grade exam papers,” Katya says with a wave of a hand, it makes Trixie’s heart feel full and warm to hear her talk about her job like this, like she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s so certain about it, she should be because she’s fucking great at it, Trixie knows that, she’s so proud it hurts her a little, sometimes, to see how far Katya’s come. She doesn’t know to articulate how she feels about it, can’t figure out the words to use to tell her much she loves her and respects her and appreciates that it’s not always easy for her to be so confident in what she’s doing and that it makes Trixie love her even more to know how hard she tries even when no one else sees the effort she’s putting in.

“I think the power’s going to your head,” she says instead, Katya fixes her with a bright grin.

“I mean, yeah.” Katya reaches over Trixie’s shoulder to grab her phone. “Can I read you some of my favourite comments?” she asks, back to that soft voice. Her charger cable pulls tight, and she has to hold the phone out at a weird angle to stop the cable from pulling free from its socket. Trixie peeks up, sees Katya swiping through screenshots of Youtube comments on her phone screen. She presses her forehead against her shoulder again, heart warm and full with adoration as she imagines Katya reading through the comments at work and finding all the ones she knows Trixie will like the most. Katya doesn’t wait for her to reply, just lets her lips press again the curve of her ear for a long moment and then clears her throat, Trixie smiles against her skin and she’s sure Katya must be able to feel it. “Okay, this one is my favourite, because, like, you really do look like a Barbie…”

 

***

 

Trixie can’t put off finding a job forever, as much as she wants to stay safe in her her sunny new life, her little daydream existence that’s stretched out since they moved. So she leaves Katya at home one afternoon sprawled out in front of her books and notepad to plan her classes and heads out with a purse full of carefully folded resumes, she’s left so many online applications and emails half finished when she’s found jobs open online that she knows she needs to go and apply in person to avoid eternal unemployment. At least with where their apartment is there’s half a dozen different bars and cafes she can hit within easy walking distance, more if she’s willing to take the bus. She feels tired already as she walks along the sidewalk and ducks into a few different places, plasters on a smile and pushes her resume towards whoever’s behind the counter. A few tell her outright that they don’t need anyone right now and she tries not to be too relieved, a couple promise to let her know if they’re interested and she has one unfortunate encounter with an overly friendly guy behind the bar of a tiny independent coffee place, but at least he’s too distracted by her tits to notice that she takes her resume back from the counter before she leaves.

She ends up a good distance away from the apartment by mid afternoon, her sunglasses pushed up on her nose and sundress catching a little against her thighs in the breeze. She’s passed three different bars in the past ten minutes that could be promising and she didn’t go into any of them. She knows she should, she knows she needs to find a job even if it isn’t one she likes, Katya would never say that to her but it’s not like they can afford their rent and everything from Katya’s salary alone. She wonders what it must be like to be Katya, to have a good job that she likes and is good at, or to be Kim and doing what she’s loved forever and making a crazy amount of money from it for what she has to do.

Trixie pauses on the corner of the street, peers over the top of the sunglasses to assess the situation. There’s two cafes and a grimy-looking bar ahead, and she counts the resumes in her purse. She has five left; she promised herself she wouldn’t go home until she’s given them all away. But there’s a makeup store even closer, and she really does need a new mascara, hers is almost running out and she hates the clumpy shit that always comes at the end. She knows Katya will make fun of her if she comes back with more makeup but whatever, it’s not like she ever listens to Katya when it comes to anything like that. Besides, if she ends up with any interviews, she needs to look nice. She crosses the street and takes her sunglasses off, tucks them into her purse as she walks into the store. She’ll get back to her search right after she’s done.

 

***

 

When Trixie gets home Katya’s relocated herself at the kitchen table, Trixie eyes it cautiously but Katya’s only really spread papers across it, nothing too heavy or stacked in a corner it so she trusts for the moment that it’s not about to topple over. 

“Is one of those for me?” Katya asks hopefully, clearly in the cups in Trixie's hands as she bumps the door shut behind her with her hip.

“These? Oh, no, I wanted two drinks and I wanted one to be a disgustingly strong black iced coffee,” Trixie says, rolling her eyes and going over to Katya, who’s making ridiculous grabby hands at the coffee in Trixie’s left hand. She hands it to her and Katya strains up until Trixie ducks her head to kiss her, Katya loops an arm around her waist and tugs her into her lap and Trixie’s giggling, her stomach is full of excited butterflies.

“You seem happy. Successful trip?” Katya asks, trailing her fingernails lightly over Trixie’s thigh as she slots the straw of her coffee between her lips, watching for Trixie’s reaction.

“I got a present for you,” Trixie says, she reaches into her purse and tosses a package at her. Katya catches it with her free hand, looks down at it and groans, lets her head roll back and glares playfully at her.

“I’m not fucking using this,” she says, dropping the beautyblender onto the table with a disdainful expression on her face.

“Use it or I’m leaving you.”

“Well…bye.” Katya keeps a solemn look up for half a second before she cracks into a smile, squeezes Trixie’s thigh.

“So,” Trixie starts, Katya’s eyes widen and her head cocks a little, straw held between pursed lips, “I have an interview at a makeup counter?” It comes out like a question, it still doesn’t feel quite real even after a conversation with the manager in the store about the best mascaras somehow escalated into some kind of informal interview right then and there in the store, with the promise that the real interview is pretty much just a formality. 

“No fucking way!” Katya says, she sounds delighted and drops her coffee on the table, wraps Trixie in a squeezing embrace and smacks a kiss to her lips. 

“It’s not, I mean, it might not go anywhere,” Trixie protests, but she can’t help the swell of excitement in her chest. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Katya says, her eyes are bright and her smile is big, the little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes are standings out and Trixie suddenly feels like she could cry. It’s not like the weight has lifted off her shoulders, exactly, but it feels a little lighter already.

“I’m kind of proud of me, too,” she admits, the laugh that comes with it is a little shaky with emotions she didn’t realise were so close to the surface.

“I hope you showed them pictures of the way you and Kim fucked up my face,” Katya jokes.

“Bitch, you’ve never looked so good!”

“You said I looked like an idiot!”

“Less of an idiot than you usually do, though,” Trixie deadpans, picking up her coffee from the table and taking a sip through the straw while Katya wheezes, yelps when Katya smacks her thigh as she laughs.

“I hate you so much,” Katya says, but she pats Trixie’s thigh anyway.

“I love you, too,” Trixie says, leaning against her and sipping her coffee again, the sun coming through the little window in the kitchen is warm against her face and she’s feeling hopeful, not everything is different in LA but maybe some things are, or maybe they could be. And right now, that feels like enough.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trixie!” Katya’s voice jerks her out of her own head and she looks over to her, sees Katya watching her with a fond smile from her spot in the water, sun setting behind her. “It’s nice! Come on, please?” she says, extending her hands out towards Trixie, wiggling her fingers in invitation. She clearly expected to have to persuade her more because her smile grows into a beaming grin when Trixie moves towards her, grabs her hands as soon as she gets close enough to. Trixie can’t stop the squeak that escapes her as the cold water laps at her ankles and Katya laughs, pushing her fingers between Trixie’s and pulling her closer.
> 
> “It’s cold! I knew it would be,” Trixie says, hopping in the water. Katya wraps a warm arm around her middle, Trixie leans into her and relaxes, and Katya’s tricky fingers drop down and pinch her ass just below the hem of her shorts. Trixie squawks in surprise and then it turns into a laugh, she can't help the way she twitches towards her and Katya’s laughing low and happy. Trixie pulls her in closer and slides her fingers into her windswept curls, kisses her sweetly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after thirty seven years of waiting, this fic has finally Returned. this chapter is probably my favourite thing that i've ever written -- it's all the love i have for this series poured into just under 18k words. talking to DahliasForKatya made me realise that this fic could alternatively be titled 'how trixie got her groove back', so it seems appropriate that writing this chapter helped me get my groove back, too, when i was worried that i was never going to be able to come back to writing when things were tough in real life. so eternal thanks to everyone who let me cry at them about this fic and just life in general.
> 
> come say hi @[crackerdyke](http://www.crackerdyke.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you want to, please leave a comment and let me know what you think if you read because comments are the best thing in the entire world!

Trixie’s in a good mood. Her day at work went pretty quick, she didn’t have to stick around for too long after to help re-stock and tidy the store and Kim called her on her lunch break, so she got to spend the best part of an hour hearing about the fun she’s been having making her videos and Trixie didn’t even feel jealous, which is a million miles away from the aching sadness and envy she used to feel when Kim would tell her how much she loves her work. So she’s smiling a little to herself as she lets herself into the apartment, hopefully Katya will be there and hopefully she’s had a good day, too, and they can be in a happy mood together. The apartment is so small that Trixie can see most of it as soon as she steps inside and Katya isn’t sat on the couch or at the stupid kitchen table (thank god), it takes her a moment to spot her outside.

Katya’s sitting on the floor on the balcony, the rickety plastic chairs they keep out there pushed back into the corner, her legs are dangling between the bars and there’s quiet music playing from her phone and Trixie can see that her new glasses are pushed up on the top of her head, can’t help but wince because she knows that they’ll already be tangled in her hair and Trixie’s going to have to help her untangle them later on, tease fine strands of hair out of the arm hinges so that Katya doesn’t end up pulling out her own hair in frustration when she tries to put them on again. She looks beautiful, lit up by the sun setting behind her with her long blonde hair whipping around her shoulders – and there’s a cigarette in her hand.  She’s supposed to be trying to quit, had told Trixie she’d gone two days without a cigarette that morning, she’d been so proud and so had Trixie, she knows how hard it is. But she can never help the twist of fear and upset in her stomach when Katya's resolution falls apart, she sees her lift the cigarette to her lips and panic sears through her chest, turns into a flash of anger. She drops her purse by the door and crosses the room, bangs through the door to the balcony that Katya always leaves open even though it lets smoke drift into the apartment when the breeze is blowing the wrong way. Katya starts at the noise, she’s always so damn jumpy and usually Trixie finds it endearing but right now she’s annoyed and she can’t help but wonder if she’s jumpy because she knows Trixie’s caught her. She’s not sure what would be the better option, Katya feeling guilty at getting caught or not even realising that she's doing something to feel guilty about.

“Hey!” Katya doesn’t _sound_ guilty, just a little surprised, and there’s a bright, welcoming smile on her face where she’s looking up at Trixie that she'd normally find endlessly endearing but right now it's the most irritating thing she's ever seen. Katya reaches out for her with her free hand, but Trixie doesn’t move from her spot near the door. Katya’s smile starts to slip, and after a second or two she lets her hand fall from where it’s extended into the space between them. “Is everything okay?” she asks, Trixie looks between her face and the cigarette still dangling from her fingers.

“You were supposed to be quitting. You promised.” She keeps her voice calm, it’s hard work but she manages it, but Katya still looks surprised. She masks it well after a second but Trixie’s already seen it. Katya forces a little laugh, she’s good at it and maybe if Trixie were someone else she’d buy it but she can tell there isn’t an ounce of sincerity to it.

“Aren’t I always? You know how it is,” she says, waves her hand in a meaningless gesture.

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that you are, then.” There’s anger still prickling under Trixie’s skin, heightened by the fear she’s doing her best not to feel even though she’s failing miserably. Maybe it’s her own fault for believing her, letting herself think that maybe this time it’ll stick and there won’t be cigarette packets on the coffee table, by the chair on the balcony, on the stupid table in the kitchen. Katya’s _always_ trying to quit, announcing to Trixie that she’s given up when she’s gone two or three days without smoking before something happens to derail her – finals would get closer when they were in college, or she’d have some project that was stressing her out when she was still a student teacher, or now she’ll have some parent make a comment or a kid do something stupid in one of her classes. Sometimes it’s something big but a lot of the time it’s small, just enough to push her outside with a cigarette clamped between her lips.

“What’s wrong with you?” Katya asks, she’s not angry but she still seems surprised. Trixie doesn’t care right now.

“Me? I’m not the one killing myself with cigarettes!” she says, and this time Katya can’t mask the hurt in her expression. Trixie knows it’s harsh but she doesn’t know how Katya can be so willingly blind about it. Things were different when they were younger and could still pretend they were invincible no matter what, Trixie could tolerate the constant cigarettes and the smell of smoke that clung to her hair from spending so much time around Katya and Pearl. But Katya’s twenty-five now and has been smoking longer than Trixie’s known her, Trixie doesn’t know how she can still pretend that it’s fine. Trixie doesn’t let herself think about it a lot but now she’s consumed by the thought of what it’s doing to her, the idea of Katya not being here anymore one day because of some stupid habit she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, kick.

“Trixie, I’m trying, what the fuck? You know it’s not that simple,” Katya says, her free hand is holding tight to the hem of her skirt and her knuckles are white.

“It could be!” Trixie insists, and Katya makes a little noise of disbelief that makes her blood boil. “Just, fucking. I don’t know, just quit! Or stop pretending you’re going to when you’re not.”

“I want to, I’m trying, you know that I’m trying, but I had a shitty day and—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Katya’s mouth shuts, teeth click together, and for a moment they’re silent, eyes locked.

“You don’t want to hear it?” Katya repeats finally, her words sound a little harder and Trixie feels like she’s choking with anger and frustration and upset that this is happening when she just wanted to have a nice evening, her day had been so good and now her mood has plummeted through the floor and she’s pissed.

“No,” she says, “no, I don’t want to hear some stupid excuse about how you _have_ to do it, how it isn’t your fault and you can’t help it, I don’t want to hear it!”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Katya’s standing up now, half smoked cigarette stubbed out on the ground next to the ashtray, it makes Trixie even more angry that she can’t even just put it where it’s supposed to be, that she has to be the one to pick up cigarette butts and empty the ashtray when she goes out to water her plants. She turns on her heel and walks back inside, she’s determined not to lash out but then she can hear Katya following her, shutting the balcony door with a little too much force.

“Trixie!”

“What?” Trixie says, she doesn’t turn around but she stops in the doorway to their bedroom, not sure what to do with herself. Half of her wants to shut herself away from this, she knows she needs to calm down and that maybe she’s not being totally rational right now, deep down she knows maybe she’s being unfair, taking out her worries on Katya when she knows Katya isn’t trying to hurt her, would never want to hurt her. But the other half is still pissed, she’s worried and she also knows that she can’t just walk away from Katya after the things she’s said.

“Can you fucking look at me?” Trixie hesitates for a moment, Katya’s silent behind her and she can only imagine the look on her face. She doesn’t want to see it. But she has to, she can’t just ignore her. When she turns around Katya’s fingers are twitching at her sides in that nervous way of hers, curling and uncurling and any moment Trixie’s sure she’ll bring her hands together, twist her fingers unconsciously. Her face looks pinched and her cheeks are flushed pink, somewhere deep in her chest Trixie feels bad that she looks so upset when she smiled at Trixie so big when she first saw her that evening. But she’s still annoyed, crosses her arms over her chest and waits silently.

“You don’t wanna hear about it? You don’t care about my day?” Katya’s voice is low and measured but there’s a little tremor at its core that pricks at the guilt blooming across Trixie’s chest.

“Not when it’s just an excuse to sit and chainsmoke all evening,” she says, because she’s a stubborn idiot. She can already feel her anger waning just as Katya’s getting riled up, she should know better by now but she doesn’t and now she has to deal with the consequences.

“That’s beyond selfish, Trixie.” There’s a steely tone to her voice now and Trixie swallows. She’s not wrong, not entirely, but that doesn’t mean that her words don’t sting. The kind of hurt worse because Trixie knows there’s truth to them.

“Don’t call me selfish,” she says. Katya’s staring her down from the other side of the room, it’s such a small space but she feels so far away.

“Then don’t be fucking selfish! You care more about whether I kept some dumb, stupid promise that I’m not even sure I made than anything else and I don’t even know why.”

“How the hell is it selfish to not want you to smoke yourself to death?” Trixie replies. She’s starting to feel drained by the whole thing, she’s still annoyed and frustrated, she still has that nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Katya never being able to quit and having to hear the wheezy laughter she loves turn into the hacking coughs that already appear sometimes when Katya’s had a bad day and smokes her way through almost a whole pack in an afternoon, hands trembling.

“You act like it’s easy! Like I’m doing it on purpose just to hurt you, like you think I could just snap my fingers and quit but I’m choosing not to.”

“Sometimes it feel like you might be,” Trixie snaps, her head hurts and there’s a hard lump in her throat, her chest feels uncomfortably tight. Katya’s frozen for a moment and then her eyes narrow.

“So, what, you’re saying _I’m_ being selfish?”

“Maybe you are, yeah,” Trixie says, heart thumping in her chest at the expression on Katya’s face that she can’t quite decipher, it’s some mix of hurt and anger and something like betrayal and she hates when she can’t figure out exactly what she’s feeling.

“Fuck you,” she says eventually and now there’s no way Trixie can miss the emotion in her voice, can tell from her breathing that she’s not far from tears and she turns on her heel, storms back out onto the balcony and slams the door behind her. Trixie’s sure she’s probably crying already, maybe she’s already lighting up a cigarette to try to calm herself down, she thinks and it’s a vindictive thought, she kinds of hates herself for it but she’s also probably right, so.

She needs to get some space. Since Katya’s co-opted the balcony she snatches up her purse, walks out of the front door and lets it shut loud behind her, feels a little pleased with herself until she realises Katya won’t have heard it anyway, since she’s shut herself outside already. Then she feels small and petty, wonders how she’s sunk low enough to slamming doors in some kind of stupid game of one-upmanship. She feels like shit and no doubt Katya does, too, and deep down Trixie thinks it’s entirely her fault, her shoulders slump as she leaves their building and walks into the sunshine that feels too nice for how awful she feels right now. She wishes for some cloudy Chicago weather, it feels like it’d be more appropriate for the situation, or, even better, a frosty winter day in Boston, the type she only gets to experience now when they go and visit Katya’s family for the holidays.

Of all the things Trixie could have called her, selfish is the least accurate way to describe Katya possible. She’s flawed, sure, Trixie knows that well enough, but she can’t think of a lot of instances in the near decade she’s known her when Katya has been selfish. She gives so much of herself to the people she loves, probably too much; she definitely gives too much of herself to Trixie. This is the woman who’s moved twice to different cities just to make Trixie happy, spent what felt like half of their time at college shuttling herself back and forth between Boston and Wisconsin with hardly any complaints since Trixie was always so busy with rehearsals that it made it more difficult for her to find time to make the journey, practically drove herself into the ground planning some over the top surprise party for her birthday this year and didn’t even flinch when Trixie ended up yelling at her for always being so busy, laughed about it like it was nothing when Trixie put the pieces together after the party was over and stuttered out a mortified apology. She’s always looked after her when things have been hard and when they haven’t, just because she loves her and she wants to. And Trixie’s an idiot because she knows all of that and still called her selfish for a bad habit she knows Katya would give up in an instant if she could.

She feels too ashamed to turn back around and go back inside so soon, which is stupid but she wants to dwell for a little while before she goes back to fix things. She knows they’ll fix things, through all the upset. They’ve lasted too long for something like this to be anything more than temporary, something they can talk over once they’re calmer and Trixie can apologise and Katya might apologise too, maybe, for calling her selfish, but maybe she won’t and that would be okay because Trixie doesn’t think she deserves it, really. She _was_ being selfish, too frustrated and afraid to let Katya talk and tell her why her resolve had crumbled, for all Trixie knows she’s had the worst day and she couldn’t even talk to Trixie about it because Trixie wouldn’t let her. And maybe her day wasn’t even that bad but Katya’s just feeling bad, because that still happens sometimes, she’s been in and out of different therapists since before Trixie even met her and she has more of a handle on her anxiety these days but it’s not like the bad days have gone away entirely. And Trixie should be there for her on them, she usually is and she wants to be and now the guilt is eating away at her, thinking of Katya back out on the balcony with only her own thoughts to drive her crazy. And Trixie left her like that, and she feels terrible.

So Trixie pushes through the shame and embarrassment and turns back around after she’s wandered around the block aimlessly for a little while, and yeah, maybe she drags her feet a little on the climb up the stairs to their apartment tucked away on almost the top floor but she gets there, steels herself with a deep breath before she lets herself into the apartment. It’s quiet inside so Katya must still be out on the balcony, and once Trixie crosses the room and gets closer to the doors outside she can see her. She’s tucked into the corner of the little balcony space, Trixie can see immediately that she’s been crying. She thinks a lot of people would be surprised to find out that Katya cries way more than Trixie does, she’s so strong and sharp and funny and it’s half the reason no one ever realises when she’s struggling. But Trixie knows her, knows when she’s struggling and knows how deeply Katya feels everything, whether it’s excitement or happiness or sadness or when her anxiety takes such a tight grip on her that she can’t stop it from getting overwhelming. Trixie’s been there for some of the highest highs and the lowest lows, she knows how hard it can hit her sometimes; Trixie knows all of that and she still lashed out at her over something stupid and now she’s going to fix it.

“Hey,” she says once she’s stepped out onto the balcony, she’s careful to make sure she’s quiet when she shuts the door like it’s some kind of peace offering, maybe Katya won’t be ready to make up but Trixie’s going to try, anyway, she doesn’t want to fight anymore and she wants to make sure Katya understands that. Katya glances up at her for a second and then looks away again, there’s a couple of stubbed out cigarettes in front of her that look like she barely smoked them, maybe took a couple of drags before angrily putting them out and then picking out a new one a few minutes later.

“Hey,” she says, sniffs and keeps her gaze firmly averted from Trixie, it makes her heart ache a little but she knows she deserves it, which kind of makes the ache even worse.

Trixie hates fighting, but Katya _hates_ it. It's not like Trixie can blame her, not really, Trixie can be an argumentative bitch when she wants to be but Katya doesn't really have that streak in her, she can be annoying and maybe a little whiny at the worst of times but she rarely tries to pick a fight like Trixie does sometimes when she's in a bad mood. Trixie came from a family where fighting was normal, fighting with her siblings and her mom fighting with her step-dad and her step-dad picking fights with her as much as he possibly could. Katya’s family wasn’t like that, they’re funny and a little eccentric, but on the whole they’re pretty calm, and since Katya had been sent off to America for her teenage years she never fought much with her parents. So they come at things from completely different angles sometimes, Katya takes fighting much harder than Trixie does. They don't really fight all that much, but Trixie can understand why it gets to Katya so much, especially after what happened the last time they fought bad. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, she’s standing in front of Katya against just like she was barely an hour or so ago, when she’d thought they would have a nice evening together and no doubt Katya probably thought the same thing. Katya’s eyes are red-ringed and there’s mascara trailing grey down her cheeks, her nose is red and she’s so small, knees tucked up to her chest and arms wrapped tight around her calves like she’s trying to protect herself.

“It’s okay,” Katya says, sniffs and slowly stretches her legs out in front of her. Trixie’s quiet for a moment, waiting, and sure enough Katya snorts, shakes her head a second later. “No, it’s not,” she says, corrects herself, and Trixie can’t help but feel a little nervous through the general upset that’s gnawing at her gut. She knows, deep down, that they're going to be okay, because they always are; the uncertainty lies in wondering what it's going to take to get them to okay. It's okay, though, she'll do what she has to. She promised to herself years ago that she'd never give up on them again, not as long as Katya lets her keep fighting for her. Trixie kneels down, the cool metal hard against her knees and she doesn’t try to move closer to her, watches her face where she’s still looking out over the lines of the buildings surrounding theirs. Katya holds her resolve for a long moment, leaves Trixie waiting, but then she reaches out to touch her wrist and Trixie shuffles over, wraps her arms around her. It takes them a little bit to slot themselves back together again but eventually Trixie’s kneeling over her lap, most of her weight is dropped onto her and her arms are tight around her, face pressed into her neck. Katya’s holding her so fiercely, she can feel her breathing against the curve of her shoulder and it’s evening out already, it makes Trixie feel a little calmer, too.

“I was really trying!” Katya says, words half-muffled, and Trixie has to laugh, it’s just a little noise but she can’t help it.

“I know, I know you were! I’m sorry,” she says, she slides her fingers up into Katya’s hair and rubs at her scalp, her lips press against the skin just under her ear and stay there for a second. “It scares me,” she admits, which Katya must already know, has to know that that’s why Trixie reacted so badly.

“I don’t want it to. I don’t want to scare you,” Katya says, her voice is small and Trixie knows she really does feel bad about it and that makes her feel worse, that she’s made her feel guilty when Trixie knows just how much Katya does for her, how much she takes care of her and works hard to make her happy. She knows, deep down, that Katya would quit if she could, that it’s something that keeps her calm when her anxiety is bad and that it’s not as simple as Trixie wishes it was for her to give up. “I’m sorry I called you selfish,” Katya says, and Trixie shakes her head.

“I _was_ being selfish. I just...I don’t want...I can’t lose you.” Trixie’s voice is a little raw by the end, her chest is tight again for a moment and she doesn’t want to make Katya feel guilty but she can’t explain herself any other way.

“I don’t want you to lose me!” Katya says, her voice is quiet and a little pitiful and the tone of it makes Trixie smile a little, she can’t help it, the tension in her chest eases off again and she kisses the soft skin at the curve of her shoulder. Katya tightens her arms around her and Trixie can feel her breathing against her neck.  “I want to quit, I do. I really do, Trix.”

“I know you do,” she says, their breathing is back in rhythm and it’s calming, the rise and fall of Trixie’s chest matched with Katya’s. “I wish I could help you. That’s all I want to do, okay? I know you need them when you feel anxious and I wish I could stop you feeling that way at all. I just want to help and when I don’t know how to it scares me.”

“You do help,” Katya says, pulls her head back a little to look at Trixie better. “Sometimes it’s just too hard, okay? Sometimes I need it and I know I _don’t_ , but I do, and honestly I’m so jealous that you can’t understand it because you’ve never been addicted to anything and that’s so totally fucking crazy to me.” Her words are kind of whiny by the end, it’s stupidly endearing, and Trixie can’t help but laugh and Katya’s smiling too.

“I know, sometimes I’m too perfect. What can I say?” Trixie says teasingly and Katya laughs properly, and the familiar wheezing settles in Trixie’s chest in the most comforting way. She still sounds a little shaky, though, and Trixie scratches her nails lightly against Katya’s scalp at the back of her head, doing her best to soothe her. “Bad day?” she asks, it’s what she should have asked earlier but maybe she can make up for it now.

“Yeah. I’m not sure why,” Katya says, ducks her head again and sighs a little against Trixie’s neck. Trixie leans into her, presses her lips to her temple.

“Wanna talk about it?” she suggests. Sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn’t, Trixie’s not sure which way it’ll go today.

“Okay,” Katya mumbles, and Trixie rubs a hand over her back, listens and hums along when she can while Katya talks. Katya always looks after her, and now it’s her turn to repay the favour and it’s one she’ll repay gladly. It makes her heart feel a little heavy in her chest to hear Katya talk about a day when her anxiety’s been worse than usual, how stressed it gets her and how powerless Trixie feels in the face of it, but she also knows it’s a good thing to let Katya talk through it with her, and if her heart feels heavy then it just means that maybe she’s taking some of the burden from Katya.

“I got home and I just needed a stupid cigarette. I don’t know why it makes me feel calmer – well, I do, deep breathing and habits and slowing down for a minute and all that shit, I know that’s what it is – but I know I should try to figure out a better way to manage it. I know that, Trix,” she says when she’s done, still curled in against her. It’s easy for Trixie to forget, sometimes, how small she can be, and right now she feels tiny in her arms as she lifts her head and looks at her with such a tired expression on her face.

“What if I could help you better? We could come up with some kind of system, some way to make it easier? Like, when you cut out your cigarettes I could, like, do something for you,” she suggests, her thumbs are rubbing lightly at the corners of Katya’s red eyes, over the little laughter lines already pulling at her skin.

“Do something for me?” Katya repeats, sniffing, and Trixie giggles at the curiosity in her voice, hopefulness underpinning her words. She kisses Katya’s cheek, nuzzling lightly at her jaw with her nose, Katya’s fingertips press into the skin low on her neck where she’s holding onto the back of her shirt. She hates that Katya was so upset because of her, but she knows they’ll always work their way back together. They always have, and there’s nothing that could happen that would stop Trixie fighting for this, for them. She never will, not as long as she gets a say in it.

“You think of something and I’ll do it,” she promises.

“Anything?” Katya asks, Trixie can hear the smile in her voice and she pulls her head back to press a kiss to curved lips.

“Anything. I promise I’ll say yes.”

 

***

 

“No.”

“You promised!” Katya whines, she’s got the most ridiculous pout on her face and Trixie would laugh if she wasn’t so horrified. Trixie’s just arrived home after work and Katya’s already showered, hair damp over her shoulder and cheeks pink, she’s only wearing a tank top and when she crosses her arms over her chest it rides up enough to let Trixie see the red lace of her panties at the side of her hip.

“I thought you’d want sex!”

“I get that anyway,” Katya says, shrugging. Trixie opens her mouth to respond, but, well, she can’t really argue with that. “I want you to watch this with me!”

“Katya, do you love me?” Trixie asks seriously.  Katya raises an eyebrow, waits for Trixie to continue. “Then please, please don’t make me watch that stupid fucking show with you, I’m begging you.” Trixie’s got her fingers threaded together, held up under her chin as she tries to give Katya what she hopes is an endearingly pathetic wide-eyed look.

“I only had one cigarette today!” Katya says, holding up one finger with a defiant expression on her face. Trixie groans, bringing her hands up to her face. She brought this upon herself, really, and she's glad Katya's doing so well already at cutting down on her smoking when it's barely been a week since their fight, but now she has to face the consequences of the promise she made to try to help motivate her. “Trixie, c’mon. It’s so good, Trix, I know you’re gonna love it. Please?” Katya’s hands cover her own, her face is close to Trixie’s and Trixie can only imagine how fucking cute she looks, all pouty and wide eyed as she tries to persuade her, she can’t even open her eyes because she knows she’ll give in instantly, not that that’s even up for debate anymore, really. She’s going to give in, of course she is. She always does.

An hour later and she’s sat on the couch, Katya’s legs are thrown over her thighs and Trixie’s hand is skimming over her calf, squinting at the tv.

“Kat, what the fuck is going on?” she says, glancing over at Katya. Her body’s twisted towards the tv, phone held loosely in her lap as she blinks over at Trixie in surprise. She’s got her glasses on, the new ones she brought home proudly not long after she’d started at her new job, the ones Trixie’s sure only work close up and definitely make the tv more blurry instead of helping her but she knows Katya loves wearing them, she puts them on at every opportunity and Trixie sees her sneaking them down her nose to see the tv more clearly when she has them on. Sometimes she calls her out on it but it’s kind of adorable to see her smiling at herself in the mirror when she’s wearing them -- adorable until she insists on propping them up on the top of her head and they end up tangled in her hair and Trixie has to sit and untangle them patiently because she doesn’t trust Katya not to get impatient and decide to just cut the tangles out to get them free.

“What do you mean? Those ones there, they’re all one family, they’re the good ones, and then these two are brother and sister but they’re fucking, right? And—”

“I feel like I should be way more concerned about how often things come back to incest with you—”

“— _Then_ those other guys are watching the wall, and she’s going to turn into the dragon princess. It’s so good, Trixie, it’s so good!” Katya’s getting caught up in her words in her excitement, so enthusiastic about this show that makes no sense at all to Trixie, it just seems to be people dressed terribly and, like, killing each other.

“I’m…not sure that _you_ understand what’s going on,” Trixie says slowly, and they look at each other for a long moment. Then Katya’s laughing, the sound deep and low in her chest before her whole body’s shaking with it, she leans forward to grab at Trixie’s forearms, clutching at them with thin fingers as she giggles helplessly. Trixie can’t help but join in, leaning into her until her forehead’s pressed against Katya’s.

“I can’t believe you made me watch this shit,” Trixie says when she can talk again, wiping at her eyes.

“One more. Please? I want you to like it so bad,” Katya says, she sounds so pitifully hopeful that Trixie just groans, nudges her legs off of her own so she can stand up.

“Fine. Let me get a drink first,” she says. Katya lets the next episode start while Trixie fetches a glass of water. She leans against the kitchen counter, watching as Katya stretches her long, toned legs out over the length of the couch. Trixie can still feel her hands on her where she was clutching as Trixie while she laughed. She finishes her water and pads back over to the couch, Katya lifts her legs to let Trixie sit in the same spot again but Trixie pushes them down lightly, kneels over her to straddle her thighs instead. Katya’s eyes darken, a surprised little gasp falls from her lips as Trixie ducks her head to kiss her neck, pushes her tank top up to run her palms lightly over her sides.

“You’re supposed to be watching with me,” Katya says, breathless.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Trixie asks, bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, pinches her nipples between her thumb and forefinger and grins when Katya arches her back up into her, eyelashes fluttering against her cheek as her eyes roll back, her breath catches in a sweet sounding _oh_ that goes straight through Trixie. She pushed her shirt up further and Katya lifts her head away from the couch so she can tug it over her head. She leans back again once it’s off, Trixie tosses it to the floor and drinks her in. She’s divine, pupils blown and red cheeked and her stomach rising and falling quickly with her rapid breathing, eyes fixed on Trixie. She pushes her glasses up onto her head and Trixie snatches them up quickly, folds them up and puts them on the coffee table before she refocuses her attention on Katya. Katya shifts her legs, slots her thigh between Trixie’s and Trixie’s presses in against her, she can feel how wet she is through her panties and she grins, leans down to lavish her breasts with kisses and nips and licks until her lips are a little tingly and Katya’s chest is heaving and flushed a pretty red all the way to her neck.  She pulls Trixie down again to kiss her, legs keeping her thigh clamped between them so she can grind against it, Trixie drops her hand between them and rubs her light, teasing, through the soaked material. Katya’s shifting impatiently beneath her, her teeth nip at Trixie’s lip and when Trixie pulls back her eyes are so wide, pupils blown as she watches her move back down the couch, Trixie grins at the way her breath hitches when she hooks her fingers into the sides of her panties, pulls them down slow over her thighs.

It doesn’t take long for Katya to come with a shuddering moan once Trixie gets her mouth on her, and Trixie brings herself off with her free hand pushed under her skirt and underwear while Katya’s thighs tremble under her grip. When Trixie lifts her head Katya’s got her forearm draped over her eyes, her breathing’s starting to get back to normal. Trixie pushes herself up just enough to shuffle towards her on the couch and then drapes herself over Katya’s chest, presses her face between her shoulder and the couch cushion. Katya’s fingers thread into her hair and she hums, satisfied. She starts a little when there's a loud noise from the tv in the corner of the room, she'd forgtten that the show was still playing and she feelsKatya’s head turn towards the tv. Trixie looks up, raises an eyebrow at her.

“Katya.”

“Hm?”

“Were you watching that the whole time?”

“What?” Katya’s trying to look innocent but they both know it’s not going to fly, Trixie glares at her and Katya’s laughing, covering her mouth with her hands and Trixie prises them away, Katya grips onto her tight.

“I can’t believe you!” she says, full of righteous indignation.

“Oh, come on. We both know you only wanted to have sex to avoid watching it, anyway,” Katya points out, Trixie opens her mouth to argue but, well, it’s kind of the truth. “See!” Katya says, smug, and Trixie rolls her eyes, drops her head back down against the crook of her neck.

“I can’t believe you were watching that stupid show while I was going down on you,” she grumbles and Katya laughs again, fumbles to grab the remote where it fell on the floor at some point. She hits a button and it skips back to the beginning of the episode.

“No, Katya, no way--”

“You weren’t paying attention!” 

“I’m not watching it again!”

“It’s not again if you weren’t watching the first time!”

“Oh my god,” Trixie says, exasperated.

“Hey,” Katya says as the credits play across the screen, pokes Trixie lightly in the arm.

“What?”

“I told you I’d get sex anyway.”

 

***

 

Trixie's head is pounding. She tries to roll over but the sheets are tangled around her, it feels like she's knotted them across her legs, her mouth feels like sandpaper. She opens her eyes and shuts them immediately, puts her hands over her face and groans loud which only makes things worse. She’s sure she can hear giggling coming through from the kitchen as she attempts to pull the blankets over her head, ready to hide from the too bright sunshine of the day. Her memories of the night before are fuzzy, she remembers getting ready and getting to Alaska’s for her famous Halloween party, the first one they’ve been able to go to now that they live in LA,  and seeing some of their friends and then it starts to get blurry from then on. It’s too hot under the blankets and she pushes them off herself, trying to unwrap one corner from around her thigh. She’s rolled herself into the middle of the bed at some point, she can hear Katya in the kitchen but it’s Saturday so she has no clue what time it is, whether Katya slept in or if it’s early still.  
  
“Good morning,” Katya says from the doorway, Trixie peeks her eyes open for a moment to look at her and she looks thoroughly amused.  
  
“It’s not good,” Trixie mumbles, turns onto her back and fumbles for a pillow to press it against her face.  
  
“I’m not surprised. How’s your head?” she asks, and Trixie snorts.  
  
“Toothy,” she says, manages a smile against the pillow as Katya laughs, the bed dips slightly and her thin fingers are stroking through Trixie’s hair, just light enough to be soothing. “What happened last night?”  
  
“You drank a lot.”  
  
“I can tell. Did I do anything stupid?”  
  
“It’s not like that’s unusual even when you’re sober.”  
  
“Katya!” Trixie whines, she’s too hungover to deal with her teasing and she pushes at her thigh where she can feel it pressing against her side.  
  
“Do you want coffee?” Katya asks, grabs her hand and squeezes lightly. Trixie considers – does she want coffee? Her head hurts and she feels vaguely nauseous, but it’s not too terrible. Caffeine might help.  
  
“Yeah, okay.”  
  
“It’s in the kitchen. Can you make it there or do you need me to bring it to you?”  
  
“I can make it there, just gimme a minute.”  
  
“Okay,” Katya says, ducks her head down to kiss Trixie’s forehead and stands up. Trixie lets the pillow drop off her face and opens her eyes, she has to squint but she wants to watch Katya walk back out to the kitchen in her tank top and panties.  
  
She manages to pee and make her way out to the kitchen, finds a scalding hot cup of coffee waiting for her and grabs it up. She cradles it in both hands and thankfully the smell doesn’t make her want to hurl so she carries it over to the couch. Katya’s still in the kitchen, her own coffee’s half-finished and she's watching Trixie tuck herself in against the arm of the couch, hip leaning against the kitchen table. Trixie shoots her a warning look and Katya rolls her eyes, crosses the room to sit on the other end of the couch. Trixie stretches her legs out, tucks her toes under Katya’s thigh and she hums against the rim of her coffee cup, gives her ankle a brief squeeze. Trixie leans back, her mug wobbles precariously but she manages not to spill any as she sinks down to rest her head back against the arm. She still feels pretty bad, but getting up and moving seems to have helped a little.

“Okay. Tell me everything,” she says, Katya raises an eyebrow.

“Have you looked at your phone?” she asks.

“No. What am I going to find?” Trixie looks over to see her phone sat on the coffee table; now she knows how wasted she must have been last night if she didn’t even take her phone with her to bed. “Gimme?” she says, reaching out for it with one hand and only reaching halfway, she doesn’t want to move so she shoots Katya a pathetic look. It’s not hard, given the way her head’s pounding, and Katya rolls her eyes before taking pity on her, picking up the phone and passing it over to her. Trixie opens it up with her thumb, winces at the amount of messages waiting for her. “Oh, god. I really was a mess, huh?” she says, scrolling through half a dozen messages from Alaska, from Shea at work, a couple from Willam and a few from Kim, who wasn’t even there last night.

“You were very entertaining,” Katya replies, she’s got that sly little smile of hers on her face that normally means she’s dying to tell a good story.

“Spill!”

“You were obsessed with my outfit all night,” she says.

“Makes sense. What else?”

“No, Trix, you were _so obsessed_. I mean, you were fine for the first hour or so, you were chatting with your friend from the store, Shea, and then Sasha, when she got there -- and they were totally hitting it off, by the way, we’ve gotta follow up on that -- but then I think it all hit you and you were...really into it.” She has an eyebrow raised and Trixie swallows at the insinuation.

“Oh god...what did I say?”

“It wasn’t so much what you said, more the way you followed me around and begged me to find an empty room with you.” Katya’s lips are twitching into a smile and Trixie can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

“I didn’t,” she says, mortified.

“Mhmm.”

“Please don’t tell me we did.” Katya laughs at that, shakes her head.

“No--”

“Oh, thank god--" 

“But you did trap me in the bathroom.”

“Oh no,” Trixie says, slides further down the couch and covers her eyes with her hand. “I’m not sure I want to know anymore.”

“And then you tried to kiss me,” Katya continues as if Trixie hasn’t said a word, Trixie groans and tries to cover her ears but Katya reaches out to stop her, a hand on her forearm, “and then you looked at me real close and then you started crying. 

“...What.” 

“And you didn’t stop crying until after we got home.” 

“What,” Trixie repeats, can feel her eyes widening as Katya talks, alarm and embarrassment building up in her gut. 

“I think people thought we’d had a fight. You were so funny, you were crying and telling me you could never find me attractive again. You went from chasing me around the apartment to running away from me, I couldn’t pin you down until you went out into the hallway by yourself, all determined to find a cab and go home.”

“Oh my god...do you think we can move? I have to move now, right now. We can’t go back to Chicago, Kim’s there. Maybe New York? Do you think Pearl and Violet have heard about it yet?"

“Violet’s been texting me all morning. She heard it from Ginger, who heard it from Jinkx, who heard it from Alaska, or something. She wanted to know what I’d done to make you cry--” 

“Oh god--”

“And I was trying to explain that all I’d done was wear the outfit you’d picked out for me so really you made yourself cry--”

“Can you please stop talking? Please?” Trixie cuts in, she wishes she could sink even further into the couch, right through it down to the ground so she could pretend that none of this is real.

“You wanted to know what happened!” Katya says, eyes dancing with wild amusement.

“I don’t anymore! God, please tell me we came home before I could embarrass myself any more?”

“Of course we did, what kind of girlfriend do you take me for?”

“The kind who gets a kick out of watching me act the fool,” Trixie says.

“Oh, honey. _Honey_. You’d already done that plenty, we didn’t need to stick around any longer,” Katya says, Trixie squeezes her eyes shut and gulps down the rest of her coffee, sets the mug down on the floor next to the couch and tries to roll over but winces and stops when her head pounds viciously. 

“Fuck. Okay, so then we came home and I went to bed?”

“...Yeah.”

“Katya.” Katya looks shifty, glances over towards the kitchen table and then back at Trixie quickly but it’s not quick enough. Trixie follows her gaze, sees something that looks suspiciously like her favourite dress thrown over the back of one of the chairs.

“What is that doing there?”

“You decided it needed to come off as soon as we got in the door,” Katya says, then, “No, Trix, don’t!” when Trixie stands up slowly, crosses the room. There’s two make-up wipes on the table, the ones Katya uses, each covered in the telltale pink of Trixie’s favourite lipstick. Trixie ignores them, picks up the dress and gasps when she spots the tear at the zipper, all the way down the back.

“Oh my god…”

“We might be able to fix it,” Katya says, coming over to stand beside her.

“I can’t believe this!” Trixie whines, lets the dress fall across the back of the chair again and stalks back over to the couch, drops down onto her front, presses her face into the fabric. She can hear Katya’s huff of amusement behind her and then she sits down on the edge of the couch beside her, brushes her fingers through her hair in slow, gentle strokes.

“It’s just a dress,” she says, voice soothingly.

“I ripped it!”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“So stupid,” Trixie mumbles.

“I love you,” Katya offers, kisses the back of Trixie’s head.

“I love you, too,” Trixie sighs. Her phone buzzes by her stomach and she reaches underneath herself to grab it.

_Pearl: I hear you were a disaster last night?_

Trixie drops her phone to the floor, closes her eyes and groans into the couch.

 

***

 

Trixie pulls her car up outside Katya’s school, she can see the last of the buses pulling away and she takes out her phone to send Katya a message. She doesn’t have to wait long for her to appear, she spots her emerging from the main building, half of her long hair is pulled up on the top of her head and Trixie can’t help the amused sigh that escapes her when she sees her glasses tangled in her hair at the crown of her head. She’s still wearing the red patterned dress she had on that morning when Trixie kissed her goodbye but now it’s streaked in paint around the sleeves, Trixie saw it coming when Katya bought a dress with wide sleeves but she knows better by this point than try to talk her out of any of her outfits on the basis of practicality. She’s got her big red sunglasses on, they look even more comical with her normal glasses perched on the top of her head, and when she gets close to the car she grins big at Trixie. Instead of going around to the passenger door she comes to the window, taps on it until Trixie rolls it down.

“Hey there, sweetcheeks. Wanna give me a ride?” she asks, husky voice lower than usual as she bends over, resting her forearms on the rim of the window. Trixie can’t help but giggle, she wiggles her eyebrows at her.

“Where do you wanna go?” she asks, and Katya pulls her sunglasses down her nose to meet her gaze.

“Wherever you’re going sounds just fine to me.” Trixie laughs and Katya ducks through the window to kiss her, then scampers around the car to throw her bag into the backseat before climbing in beside Trixie.

Trixie’s about to drive off when Katya dives across her lap, hits her horn hard and makes Trixie jump. The window’s still down and Katya leans towards it, waving manically. A severe looking woman with dark hair piled atop her head and big eyes looks over at them and then sticks one finger in the air and Katya screeches with laughter.

“Oh my god, is that her?” Trixie asks, mouth agape. She’s heard a lot about Bianca, the eccentric principal at Katya’s school, but she’s never seen her before.

“That’s her, the crazy bitch herself,” Katya says, still laughing. Bianca’s retreated inside so Trixie starts driving as Katya kicks off her pumps, curls her feet up under her and puts her window down, rests her elbow on its frame and leans her cheek against her palm so that her hair gets whipped up in the wind, blowing through the breeze.

“God,” Katya says, exhales long and slow and Trixie glances over at her to see that her eyes are shut, “I need this weekend. The kids are so stressed, were we ever that stressed out at their age?”

“Not about school,” Trixie replies, gets a shrug and a head bob of agreement from Katya, “what the hell are kids getting stressed about in art class?”

“I'll have you know my kids take their art very seriously,” Katya replies, she's pretending to be all high and mighty about it but Trixie can see in her peripheral vision that she's grinning at her now.

“Oh, sure they do,” Trixie drawls and Katya wheezes out a laugh.

“Hey,” Katya says a moment later, her voice is quiet and when Trixie looks over her smile is smaller, softer. “Happy anniversary.” Trixie can't help but beam, warmth spreading out slow from her chest.

“Happy anniversary,” she replies, takes a hand off the wheel to reach over for one of Katya’s. She takes it and holds it between both of her own, tilted a little in her seat so she's not stretching Trixie’s arm too far.

“We’re doing pretty well, aren't we? Nine years, that's impressive.”

“Eight.”

“Nine!”

“Eight,” Trixie says firmly and Katya grumbles to herself.

“Technically I still think it's nine,” she insists but Trixie shakes her head.

“ _Te_ _chnically_ it's definitely eight.”

“ _Technically_ it depends what you mean by technically, really--”

“I'm not getting into this conversation again,” Trixie says before things get too convoluted, she knows just how deep into things Katya can get when it comes to talking herself in circles.

“Because you know I’m right,” Katya says and Trixie doesn’t have to look at her to know there’s a smug grin on her face.

“You’re not drawing me into this.”

“Because I’m right and you know it!” she crows, squeezes Trixie’s hand and her knees are jiggling with excitement.

“You’re an idiot and I hate you,” Trixie says, fights down a smile at the snort that gets out of her.

“I’m right,” Katya says, Trixie has to laugh at how stupidly pleased she sounds with herself.

“I’m not doing this with you for two whole hours in the car.”

“Say that I’m right!”

“You’re not!”

“Trixie!”

“I’m straight up going to murder you,” Trixie warns.

“You’ve never done anything straight in your life,” Katya quips back immediately, Trixie doesn’t want to laugh but she can’t help it.

“Remind me why I love you?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Katya says, Trixie can see the stupid smile on her face.

“Yeah, probably.”

“You still love me, though.”

“Yeah,” Trixie agrees, glances over at her with a smile on her face.

“I love you too. Idiot.”

The idea had come together just after the new school year had started and Trixie had decided it would be a good idea to plan in a break; they’d both started new jobs, moved to a new place, and she figured it would be good to be able to take a vacation even if it was just for a weekend. So she’d searched for days for the perfect place right by a little beach a couple hours away from them; maybe it seemed silly to go so far when they could have stayed at home and found a beach nearby, but Trixie knew neither of them would have been able to give themselves over to an entire weekend if they’d stayed home; Katya would have ended up distracted by planning or Trixie would have found herself covering someone’s shift, and their weekend together would have been lost. So she’d found them a tiny house on the edge of the beach that hadn’t been too expensive, and it takes them most of Friday afternoon to drive there in weekend traffic. Trixie’s legs are a little stiff by the time they pull up outside but she doesn’t care much, she’s just happy they’ve finally arrived, she heads straight inside to look around while Katya hovers in the little covered entryway out the front to smoke a joint. Trixie comes back to report her findings in every room, the pretty marble island in the kitchen, the bathtub that’s just as big as it looked in the pictures, she’s grinning big after that because their tub back home is so tiny, if she decides to have a bath she has to keep her legs bent, toes pressed up against the end. When Katya finally joins her inside the house she’s marvelling at the bedroom, it’s huge, far bigger than theirs is although that doesn’t mean much given how tiny their apartment is, she comes up behind Trixie and slides her arms around her.

“That’s a nice bed,” she says, her thumb’s rubbing over Trixie’s hip lightly as she looks around the room.

“Yeah,” Trixie agrees. It’s big and kind of extravagant, covered in so many pillows and cushions and at least two throws, Trixie can’t imagine that anyone would actually sleep on a bed with that much on. “This place is real fancy.”

“Mm,” Katya murmurs, her nose is pressed into Trixie’s shoulder and her hair’s tickling Trixie’s neck. Trixie’s still getting used to the fact that she doesn’t smell like cigarettes anymore unless she’s wearing something that’s been sitting in the closet for a while, or if she's had a really terrible day and ends up caving, pulling out the emergency pack she keeps stashed in the lowest drawer in the kitchen (and Trixie's good about it now, she never yells or gets mad); she doesn’t miss it, not really, but it’s kind of nice in those rare moments to get the flash of familiarity.

“Do you want to go down to the beach?” she says, Katya shakes her head.

“Later,” she says and then she’s tugging at the zipper on the back of Trixie’s dress, pulling it all the way down until her dress slips down her shoulders. 

“Oh?” Trixie says, a sigh falls from her lips at the touch of Katya’s fingertips against her back, brushing lightly over her skin as she pushes her dress down so that it falls to the floor.

“I want to see what you look like on these fancy sheets first,” she says, pushes lightly on Trixie’s hips and she’s pliant under her touch, lets her turn her around and move her back towards the bed.

“I guess we could just try it out. Make sure it’s good,” Trixie agrees, fumbles to help Katya free herself from her dress when her sleeves get caught over her hands.

“We’ll go after,” Katya promises, pushes her down onto the bed once she’s free of her clothes and kneels over her. Katya’s clearing the stack of pillows off of the covers, sweeping them to the floor, Trixie lets herself topple back against the sheets -- they really are soft. She lets out a contented sigh as Katya leans in over her again; she knew a vacation was a good idea.

***

 

Katya’s hand is warm in hers. So is the sand under her feet, Trixie didn’t bother to put on shoes before they came back out to the beach after dinner and the sand dips under her toes with every step. They only managed to get out onto the beach once it was already dark last night, got distracted this morning but made it outside just before noon and now it’s getting late, one whole day is almost gone and they’ve only got Sunday left. The sky’s starting to get darker, the beach lit up around them in a dusky pink glow. Katya’s squinting slightly against the glare the ocean’s throwing towards them, brow crinkled and eyebrows pulled together a little. She’s looking out at the water, her shirt’s slipped down over her shoulders and Trixie can see where the sun’s brought out the light freckles on them, the ones she likes to find on her skin in winter when she can hardly see them, trace them with her fingertips.

“Come in the water with me?” Katya says, looking over at Trixie again. She’s smiling, her forehead is relaxed again and she looks peaceful, happy. Trixie likes it on her.

“It’s too late, it’ll be cold,” she protests, shaking her head and pushing back a loose curl from her face.

“It’s not like I want to swim, Trixie! I just want to walk in the water.” Katya’s tugging at her hand, her path drifting closer to the line of the water. Trixie pulls a face – it’s late and it’s hardly cold but it’s nowhere near as warm as it was earlier, she has no desire to walk in the water and deal with the sticky, prickly feeling of wet sand against her feet that always comes afterwards right now. Maybe tomorrow, in the morning before they have to go home, but for now she’s content to enjoy the warmth that’s left and stay dry. Katya sighs, huffy and over-dramatic and she lets their arms stretch out between them as long as possible before she gets too far away, has to let go of Trixie’s fingers.

“It’s nice!” she calls out when she gets into the water, walks out into it until it’s almost at her knees, spray from the waves hitting the frayed hems of her cut-offs. She looks positively gleeful, relaxed and happy and Trixie is content to watch her. The beach is pretty quiet, even quieter than it was earlier in the day, they’ve only passed a couple of people with their dogs or just strolling along together by the water, and it’s nice to get some time away from their busy little spot in LA, as much as Trixie loves it. Things are peaceful here, she knows Katya needed some space since things are busy at work and they both know the patterns all too well now of what can trigger her anxiety, so it’s a well-timed break. Trixie’s job is never as stressful but she’s still not complaining about a weekend away from the store to spend with Katya at the beach. It’s a dream vacation, really, one they would have talked about all wistful a few years ago and now they get to do it for real, spend a few days in some nice little beach house Trixie found after days of searching on airbnb that’s kind of in the middle of nowhere, with nothing they can possibly worry about here.

Trixie looks down the line of the beach, tucks flyaway curls behind her ears when they blow into her face. It’s so quiet and the sun’s starting to go down, maybe they can stay out here and watch it set, they can do anything they want, they’re on vacation, the evening light makes the water look even prettier, a deep crystal blue. There’s music filtering over from the other end of the beach, almost too far for Trixie to catch down right down by the sprawling rocks further towards the cliffs, Trixie only really hears it in a quiet moment when the waves aren’t too big. She squints out into the distance; there’s a small crowd of people, she can see a figure in a big, white dress. It’s a pretty spot for a wedding, no doubt what she’s seeing is the happy aftermath, people drinking and dancing and celebrating together on the beach while the sun goes down around them. It’s a lovely sight, really, she thinks as she takes slow steps along the sand, weaving a little closer to the water’s edge as the tide starts to go out. Everyone looks happy, sounds happy. It’s nice.

“Trixie!” Katya’s voice jerks her out of her own head and she looks over to her, sees Katya watching her with a fond smile from her spot in the water, sun setting behind her. “It’s nice! Come on, please?” she says, extending her hands out towards Trixie, wiggling her fingers in invitation. She clearly expected to have to persuade her more because her smile grows into a beaming grin when Trixie moves towards her, grabs her hands as soon as she gets close enough to. Trixie can’t stop the squeak that escapes her as the cold water laps at her ankles and Katya laughs, pushing her fingers between Trixie’s and pulling her closer.

“It’s cold! I knew it would be,” Trixie says, hopping in the water. Katya wraps a warm arm around her middle, Trixie leans into her and relaxes, and Katya’s tricky fingers drop down and pinch her ass just below the hem of her shorts. Trixie squawks in surprise and then it turns into a laugh, she can't help the way she twitches towards her and Katya’s laughing low and happy. Trixie pulls her in closer and slides her fingers into her windswept curls, kisses her sweetly.

Trixie loves her. She’s not perfect but she kind of is, somehow, to Trixie.

 

***

 

It’s late and the air outside is cool against Trixie’s skin as she wanders out into the darkness. There’s a path leading from the door down to where their car is parked, but she circles around the back of the house instead, sand pressing in between her toes where the grounds slopes down a little towards the beach. There are a few small steps that act as a handy marker of where their little private space ends and the beach begins, and she sits on the top one when she reaches it, glass of icy water cradled between her palms. She left her phone inside but she doesn’t need it, she lets her eyes close and listens to the waves hitting the shore and exhales a long, deep breath. The faintest breeze hits the backs of her sweaty calves and it’s nice, she tips her head back and feels her shoulders relax. Katya had been fast asleep when Trixie got out of bed, Trixie had had to extract herself from the vice grip of her arm wrapped around her ribs but she hadn’t woken up.

Trixie knows it doesn’t matter, not really, not in any grand scheme of things. She’s lucky to have what she has with the woman she loves -- their relationship is good and secure and she doesn’t doubt it, ever. When she thinks of Katya, she thinks of home; it doesn’t matter if they’re married. Her life is good -- she likes her job, now, Katya does too, they have their nice little apartment and their friends nearby and enough money not to constantly worry about the next bill that comes in, and Katya loves her, she knows, trusts in it right down to her core. But she still can’t help but imagine being able to wear a ring on her finger, knock it against its pair on Katya’s, call her her wife and see the words on Katya’s lips, too.

But it isn’t everything. They’re as good as married, it wouldn’t change anything at all, she’s sure, would just be some kind of formality that they don’t need to validate what they have. And it’s not like she’s ever been under any kind of illusion that it’s something she could have. Not when she was young and still figuring herself and could never imagine herself getting married for reasons that are pretty clear now; not when they were teenagers and everything felt like some kind of hazy, wonderful daydream; not in the last couple of years as they’ve settled in to each other, found a comfortable rhythm and grow up together. Certainly never with anyone else, that’s not something she’s ever considered for even a moment. She can’t even begin to think about being with anyone else, even if that meant she could live some kind of fantasy life with marriage and a perfect career and, like, flying pink ponies or something. She’d always choose their imperfect life over any other option, and that certainty is part of what keeps her grounded. No matter what else is going on in her life, knowing that she gets to come home to someone who’s always there for her, loves her so strong, it reminds her that everything’s going to be okay. And she wouldn’t trade that for anything.

She knows Katya better than she knows anyone else in the world and she knows exactly how she feels about marriage. Depending on her mood it ranges from apathetic to downright opposed; the latter usually emerges when she gets the opportunity to get into it with someone about it, about how crazy she finds it that an _archaic, patriarchal tradition_ can still be so important to their generation -- that particular line of argument had come up during an especially fun night a couple of months back of watching Alaska’s date react to Katya and Alaska getting into one of their debates over dinner, drinking what was probably too much wine and trade quick back-and-forth about the appeal of marriage, the grins on the faces the only signs that they were enjoying themselves as their words got snappier. Trixie had smiled and laughed at their banter, swallowed down the lump in her throat and held Katya’s hand on the walk home, fallen asleep curled against her and happy, even if there was a little weight in her chest that she couldn’t quite dislodge.

She’d brought it up once, just once, years back when things were first starting to get complicated with Katya’s citizenship, when they were in college and Trixie had been visiting her in Boston, woken up on a slow Sunday morning to find Katya surrounded by complicated paperwork. _You know, we could just get married_ , she’d said, half-joking, kind of, bringing coffee over to her and leaning into her side, chin on her shoulder, _that’d make this whole problem go away_. Katya had looked at her in surprise for a second and then she’d thrown her head back and laughed, a deep laugh that had reverberated through her whole body against Trixie’s. She hadn’t even really replied, just kept snickering to herself as she carried on with her forms, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous the very concept of marriage was, how she couldn’t imagine anything worse, and Trixie had swallowed down her hurt and played along with her ramblings. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known how Katya felt about marriage by that point, and she’d just filed away that rejection as a warning not to let herself entertain the idea again in the future.

So Trixie’s never expected it. She’s never thought about proposals or wedding dresses or rings, and it’s not like any of that stuff is what she cares about, anyway. She doesn’t feel any particular urge to have a wedding, that’s not the part that would be important. It’s the ties she would get, knowing that _officially_ Katya would be her wife, her partner, connected to her in a way that no one would be able to question. Maybe she’s romanticizing it a little, since she knows it’ll never happen, but she can’t help herself.

Sometimes Trixie thinks Katya is…it’s kind of like she isn’t always aware of how lucky she is to have the family she has. She doesn’t take them for granted, per say, but she can’t understand what it’s like to not have a family who’ll always love her unconditionally. She’s sympathetic, of course, when it comes to the mess that is Trixie’s family, Trixie rarely wants to talk about it, doesn’t see the point, but when she does she knows Katya will listen and help the best she can, even if that’s just nodding and agreeing that they can go to hell, holding Trixie in her arms when it’s bringing her down on a really bad day and promising that it doesn’t matter where she came from, that she’s stronger and better than any of them until Trixie can start to believe it again. Trixie knows that Katya can’t truly understand how she feels about it and she’s glad, she would never want her to, wouldn’t want her to have to go through what she has, but sometimes she can’t swallow down the sadness that hits her when she comes home and Katya’s on the phone with her mom, an easy smile on her face as they talk about nothing important. Of course, Katya always thrusts her phone towards Trixie, puts it on speaker and Trixie can join in easily, joining in making fun of Katya with her mom and answering questions about her job, usually most of the sadness is pushed down by the time Katya hangs up, but it lingers for a while as Trixie lets herself wonder what it would be like to have that.

Trixie’s never going to have a mom she’s close to or parents to go visit or even siblings who call every now and then to find out what’s going on in her life, but she _could_ have a wife, someone to be Trixie’s own little family. She doesn’t need it, but she wants it, deep down, when she lets herself think about it. The stupid thing about it is that she’s sure if she said all of this to Katya, told her how she really feels about it and asked her, got her some ring and thought up some flowery words (not that she’d need to think too hard to find them when sickly-sweet romanticisms about how much she loves her are always swirling around somewhere in the back of her mind), she’d probably say yes. Because she loves Trixie and Trixie knows that, knows that when it comes down to it there isn’t a lot that Katya wouldn’t do to make her happy. And she adores her for it, but she also doesn’t want to ask Katya to do something she doesn’t believe in, actively dislikes, really, doesn’t want to get married and find Katya avoiding the words, looking at a ring on her finger with a frown on her face or not wanting to wear one altogether, starting out well intentioned before ‘losing’ it after a while. Trixie thinks that would be worse than staying as they are; she can’t bear the thought of Katya resenting her for it down the line, of risking what they have for the sake of something they don’t need. That _she_ doesn’t need.

Trixie’s caught up in her thoughts but she still recognises the familiar footsteps behind her even though they’re muffled in the soft sand, isn’t surprised when Katya sits down beside her and slips an arm around her. Trixie’s eyes are closed and she doesn’t open them, just leans into her side until her temple bumps against Katya’s, reaches her arm around her own middle to find Katya’s hand at her side and link their fingers together loosely, their bodies curved together comfortably.

“I thought you were sleeping,” she says into the quiet air. Katya turns her head towards her, her pointy nose presses against Trixie’s cheek and she hums, Trixie feels the noise against her skin.

“You weren’t there,” she murmurs, her hand shifts down from Trixie’s own to her thigh, squeezes a little before settling against it, fingertips tapping lightly. Trixie doesn’t mind, she’s used to Katya’s little restless movements. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking,” Trixie says simply, Katya laughs all breathy and soft against her cheek.

“You’ve been thinking hard all evening. I can tell when you’re doing it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about _anything_ all evening and you know it,” Trixie replies, can’t help the smile that pulls at her lips and she doesn’t have to open her eyes to know that Katya’s got a smug expression on her face.

“Oh honey, I--”

“Oh, _honey_ ,” Trixie cuts in, giggles at her own stupid joke and Katya does too, fingers dig into her thigh a little.

“I know you weren’t thinking about anything tonight. I meant earlier on, when we were out here. What’s on your mind?”

Trixie shrugs, digs her toes into the sand. “The future,” she says after a moment of weighing up what to say. They don’t have any secrets, a promise they made to each other years ago and that Trixie would never break, but this isn’t really a secret. It’s just something she thinks about sometimes, not a lot, and what good would it do to bring it up? She doesn’t see any point to it.

“Oh yeah? Thinking about how good our life is gonna be?” Katya asks, and Trixie's breath catches in her throat, the way it always does when Katya says something so casually meaningful. _Our life_ , she says, like they're one collective person, like the thought of any future that's not tied to Trixie's is unfathomable to her. It makes Trixie’s heart swell.

“Something like that,” she agrees. Katya was being playful but it’s the truth; no matter what petty little things Trixie might let herself dwell on from time to time, nothing will ever change the fact that her life has always been, will always be, better for getting to share it with her. Katya’s humming again, low and content, her lips are brushing against Trixie’s cheek to give her tiny, featherlight kisses and Trixie’s quiet, breathing slow and easy with the sound of the water soothing in the background.

“Trixie?”

“Hm?” Trixie can feel herself getting sleepier, she’s ready to go back inside when she find the strength in her legs to stand. She’ll have to untangle herself from Katya but that’s okay, it’s not a long walk back inside and then she can curl up in her arms again.

“Trix,” Katya says again, Trixie peeks her eyes open and Katya’s looking at her, her hand is on Trixie’s knee now and she looks almost serious even with her big shirt hanging down against her knees, wide collar down off one shoulder, her wild curls are sticking out at every angle and getting more tangled in the breeze.

“What?” Trixie asks, she covers Katya’s hand with one of hers, it feels like the right thing to do and Katya turns her hand over immediately, stretches out her hand so their fingers line up and palms press together before she slides her fingers between Trixie’s and squeezes her hand.

“I…” Katya trails off, looks down at their hands for a moment and her thumb rubs across the back of Trixie’s hand, she glances back up at her from under her pale lashes and she’s got Trixie curious now, she seems a little hesitant and it’s so unlike her.

“Katya?”

“I want to be your wife,” she says in a rush, her grip on Trixie’s hand tightens but Trixie barely feels it.

“What,” she says, her mouth is dry and the words are replaying over in her head, she’s not entirely sure that she heard her right but Katya is watching her close, nibbling at her lower lip.

“I want to be married to you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be mine,” she says, she reaches for Trixie’s other hand but she doesn’t hold onto it, slides her fingertips up over the inside of her wrist so lightly that it almost tickles and Trixie’s sure she must be able to feel how fast her heart is beating just from that faint touch.

“You hate marriage,” she says and that makes Katya smile.

“Maybe. I used to, I think. It’s still not – I mean, as a concept – it’s different…” Katya’s clearly trying to find the right words and eventually she huffs, sounds exasperated, turns to face Trixie better without letting go of her hands. “It’s not _necessary_. I don’t need it to know that I love you, but I want it, now. Maybe I didn’t like it before but when have I ever been morally consistent?”

“You want to get married,” Trixie says slowly, still trying to convince herself, really, that’s that what Katya’s actually saying. That she’s articulating pretty much exactly how Trixie’s always felt about it and she wants to marry her, now, even though Trixie’s spent so much time convincing herself that it’ll never happen and that that’s okay.

“I want to be married to you,” Katya says, like it makes a difference, Trixie’s head tilts a little as she tries to decipher the nuance of it. Katya can obviously tell what she’s thinking, wiggles forward until she’s kneeling up, hovering over Trixie’s lap. “It’s not about…I don’t care about what anyone thinks we should do. I just want to belong to you, Trix, and I want everyone to know that I do. And I – I want you to belong to me, too.”

“I do,” Trixie says, doesn’t even have to think about it, she knows she’s belonged to Katya almost since the day they met, she’s been totally fucked for her from the very beginning. And the thought of that being official, of everyone knowing how much they love each other and that they’re planning on being together forever? It’s kind of overwhelming in the best way possible.

“You do?” Katya repeats, they’re pretty much nose to nose and Trixie’s caught up in the pale blue of her eyes, Katya’s still got a hold on her hands and she doesn’t let go even as she brings a hand up to brush Trixie’s curls back from her forehead, frizzed up a little in the warm beach air, then presses her lips to her knuckles and lets them linger there.

“Yeah,” Trixie breathes, the way Katya’s looking at her is so tender that she feels like she needs to look away from her but she can’t, she doesn’t want to, not really. Katya’s holding tight onto both of Trixie’s hands now between them, Trixie curls her fingers around Katya’s, pulls her closer until she’s got her weight settled against her upper thighs, Katya’s knees pressing in against the sides of her hips.

“I know this is what you want, right? I know you,” Katya says, lifts their hands to trace a thumb light over the curve of Trixie’s jaw.

“Not if you don’t—”

“I want it. I want to make you happy,” Katya says, cuts her off before Trixie can even finish her sentence.

“Is that the only reason why?” Trixie asks, she doesn’t want to, she wants to just accept it and kiss her and let herself feel the messy swirl of feelings that’s building up in her chest. But she has to ask, she can’t always be selfish even though Katya always lets her, gives her whatever she needs to keep her happy. But this is something Trixie can’t accept if Katya doesn’t truly want to give it, she knows she can’t no matter how badly she wants to. But Katya just smiles, small and soft and indulgent, closes the space between to kiss her with upturned lips.

“Trix, baby, why would that be a bad thing?” she asks, doesn’t pull back very far to speak and her forehead is tilted against Trixie’s, straight white teeth poking out from her lips. “I want you to be happy. Don’t you think seeing you happy makes me happy, too?”

“This is too big to do just to make me happy,” Trixie says and Katya makes a little huffing noise, sounds almost frustrated but she’s still smiling.

“I love you. I love you! I want to be your wife, Trix. It doesn’t mean I don’t think marriage is dumb and unnecessary and we don’t need to, like, stop teaching little kids that it’s what they should dream about for when they grow up, I mean, that’s still fucked up that they –”

“Katya,” Trixie says, squeezes Katya’s hands lightly to bring her back on topic before she launches into some impassioned rant about societal expectations that are pushed onto little kids, the pervasive nature of heteronormative values or whatever it is she’s talking about, normally Trixie will just let her talk because it’s cute, how into it she gets, she’s so smart and interested in the world and Trixie likes hearing what she has to say but right now she kind of wants to stay on track.

“Right, yeah. I just – in general, I still think it’s kind of pointless. But for us…I want it. And I think I’m okay with that.”

“You think you’re okay with that?”

“I want to be married to you, Trix. I don’t care if it’s pointless, I want whatever I can have with you, okay? I love you! I don’t know about some big, fancy wedding or anything, you know how I feel about the stupid dresses they wear on those shows, but—”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Trixie cuts in, her voice sounds a little strained to her own ears and she doesn’t realise she’s crying until Katya’s wiping tears from her cheeks, Trixie’s still clinging onto her hands with her fingertips, Katya’s kissing under her eyes and stroking the side of her neck so lightly it’s sending tingles all down her side, through her chest, she’s sniffling and then she’s giggling a little, she feels giddy and Katya’s grinning at her with her whole face lit up like Trixie’s the best thing she’s ever seen. “I wanna be married to you, too. I want it so bad.”

“I know,” Katya says, it should be infuriating, how smug she sounds, but Trixie doesn’t care, she’s so happy she thinks she could burst with it and she’s not sure she’ll ever care about anything else ever again. Katya tries to kiss her but Trixie puts a hand on her shoulder, keeps an inch of space between them and Katya’s lips start pursing into a pout, she’s searching Trixie’s face for an answer.

“Will you ask me properly?” she says, she can’t help herself. Katya’s lips quirk up into a fond smile.

“You know I don’t have some flashy ring for you, right?” she says, half-teasing.

“Please,” Trixie asks. She doesn’t care about a ring and she doesn’t care what happens when they actually get married, about how it happens or where or when, and she knows the words don’t really matter but she still wants to hear them, if Katya will say them.

Trixie thinks she will. She’s smiling, as soft as Trixie’s ever seen her, she leans into her, the line of her body is pressed in against Trixie’s so close that it feels like they’re completely intertwined together. Her hands finally let go of Trixie’s and they trace the lines of her arms, fingertips brushing over the sensitive skin at the crook of her elbows, she dips her head to kiss her shoulder while her hand runs up her neck, her palm cups the side of her chin and then the other one comes up to do the same, her soft, small hands are cradling her face, thumbs brush over Trixie’s lips so that she shudders subconsciously, her breathing’s getting more laboured the longer Katya keeps her waiting.

“Will you marry me, Trix?” she asks, her eyes are so bright that Trixie thinks she might be about to cry and that’s okay because Trixie’s crying again too, the emotion that’s built up in her chest escaping in steady tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Yes,” she says, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen Katya grin so big but she can only see it for a moment before she’s leaning in to kiss her and Trixie’s eyes shut, eyelashes heavy with tears.

“I love you,” Katya breathes against her lips, she can’t stop grinning and Trixie’s kissing her teeth more than her lips but she doesn’t care, keeps kissing her anyway. Katya’s going to marry her and Trixie’s going to be her wife, her heart feels full and Katya’s holding her so close in the night air, grinning against her lips. Trixie’s not sure she’s ever experienced a more perfect moment in her whole life.

“I love you, too,” she whispers.

 

***

 

“You did what?!” The total shock in Kim’s voice makes Trixie giggle, she’s holding her phone to her ear with one hand and using the other to twist a lock of Katya’s hair around her fingers, fingertips brushing against the side of her neck and Trixie can see the way she shivers when they do, how her eyes flit over to Trixie before focusing on the road ahead of her again. Eventually she swats Trixie’s hand away, glancing over at her properly for half a second and giving her a dreamy smile, Trixie catches her hand and runs her thumb over the smooth weight of the ring on her finger. She pulls her hand towards her, kisses the middle of her palm.

“Trixie?” She’d forgotten that Kim’s still on the phone, too caught up in the moment, she pulls her lips back from the soft skin of Katya’s palm but doesn’t let go of her hand, keeping it held in her own against her chin. She can feel her ring slip down her towards her knuckle, her fingers are too skinny and this is what comes of buying cheap rings in a giddy rush, it’ll probably fall off Katya’s hand soon and maybe they'll replace them with nice ones at some point anyway but Trixie’s a sentimental bitch and she knows she won't want to get rid of these rings even if they're cheap and tacky.

“We got married,” she repeats when she remembers Kim’s still waiting for her; the words still taste surreal on her tongue even though she’s said them a hundred times over in the last hour, whispered them to herself in her reflection in the gas station bathroom, let them out against Katya’s neck in the slow moment before they had to get in the car to drive back home, lingering in each other’s arms for as long as possible, breathed them against her lips when she couldn’t bring herself to pull away for even a moment. She hasn’t got to say them to anyone else yet, though, Katya had called her mom when they stopped at the gas station so Trixie could pee and by the time she’d come out she’d been crying and insisting Katya put her on speakerphone so she could talk to them both but Trixie hadn’t actually been the one to tell her, now it sends a thrill running through her, she’s excited as she thinks of all of the people she’ll get to say them to.

“I can’t fucking believe you! Thanks for the fucking invite, bitch,” Kim says, and Trixie laughs, she can see Katya grinning and she doesn’t know if she can hear Kim on the phone or if it’s just because Trixie’s laughing.

“We didn’t plan it! It just happened,” Trixie says, glances over at Katya again. It just happened out of nowhere and Trixie’s heart is so full, she’s a wife now and she has one, too, she’s part of her own little family, their little family, and yeah, maybe she was before but this is official, now.

“It just happened?” Kim repeats, she still sounds so surprised and Trixie can’t really blame her. “Girl, tell me everything!”

Trixie’s grinning as she relays the story to her, skipping over the details of their late night conversation and panic in the morning to find someone to marry them once they’d come to the crazy, ridiculous decision that they should get married _today, right now, Trixie, before we go home!_ That was what she’d woken up to, Katya kneeling over her, eyes bright and body practically buzzing with excitement and it had been the best idea in the world, Trixie had kissed her hard, laughed into her mouth at the absurdity of it and then immediately gone to their bags to pull out anything white she could find (and Katya had laughed her ass off when she realised what Trixie was doing, giggled out that _wearing white is nothing but a lie, Trix, there’s no way you can pretend to be pure in the eyes of god_ , but Trixie had insisted, if there weren’t going to do anything normally she was at least going to wear something white). So she got married in a damn beach cover-up and it didn’t matter, not the tiniest bit, because she got married and now she has a ring on her finger that matches Katya’s, she can feel them bumping together where she’s holding her hand, it’s a little awkward and Katya’s going to have pull her hand back any minute to take the wheel but for now Trixie’s just enjoying the sensation of it, safe in the knowledge that it’s the first time of many that she’ll get to feel it.

Kim is asking her question after question, how did she ask her and why didn’t they want to wait until they got home, Trixie tells her a lot of it but not all, tells her about spending most of the day on a mad dash around nearby towns to find someone, somewhere who’d marry them at such short notice but not about how she’d cried out by their car afterwards, cried looking at a crappy ten dollar ring on her finger because she’d never had anything feel like it fit her so perfectly. Some of the details feel too precious to share with anyone else.

“You’re married,” Kim says, she sounds awed by it. Trixie’s not surprised; she is, too.

“Yeah,” she says, grins over at Katya.

“You’re a real grown up.”

“Kind of,” Trixie says. In some ways, yeah, it feels like a very grown up thing to do, but deep down she still feels like a sixteen year old falling in love with her best friend. And Katya still is her best friend, above anything else, really. They’re a team, the two of them, and she’s the person Trixie likes the most in the entire world. It’s that simple, when it comes down to it, and it’s why they work.

“What about—” Katya grabs onto Trixie’s hand that’s holding her phone, pulls it away from her ear so that Trixie loses what Kim was about to say.

“Kimberly, I want my wife back,” she says once Trixie’s phone is close enough to her mouth, the words send a jolt through Trixie that settles right into her core and she can’t help the little noise she makes, halfway between a squeak and a keening sound. Katya glances over at her and Trixie can tell how delighted she is by her reaction from the glint in her eyes, the way her smile is pulled up more at one side of her mouth. “Yes, good, okay. Bye, Kim.” She pushes Trixie’s hand back towards her and Trixie says goodbye to a very amused Kim before she hangs up, drops her phone into her lap. She looks out of the window and they’re only a couple of minutes away from home, maybe less, she squeezes her thighs together in anticipation. They’re silent for the rest of the drive and Trixie’s listening to Katya’s breathing, turns to watch her as she’s concentrating on the road. As soon as she’s pulled the car up outside their building Katya jumps out without a word, Trixie fumbles with her seatbelt and by the time she gets out of the car Katya’s there in front of her, she swings Trixie’s door shut behind her and pushes her back against the car, crowds in against her and Trixie slides her arms around her as she starts pressing hot kisses down her neck. Trixie’s almost panting, her eyes shut immediately and she can’t help but push herself in against Katya’s thigh.

“Come on,” Katya says between kisses that are turning into little nips at her skin, “I wanna fuck my wife.” Trixie groans deep at that, Katya covers her lips with a deep kiss, swallows down the noise, and then she’s pulling back, taking Trixie by the hand and practically dragging her inside. It’s probably a good thing she is, steady hand in Trixie’s, because Trixie’s legs feel like jelly as they start climbing the stairs.

“How the fuck do you move so fast?” she says when they’re two flights up, she’s a step behind Katya and Katya’s laughter bounces around the walls of the stairway but she slows down a little, doesn’t let go of Trixie’s hand and when they reach their door on the fourth floor she tries to open the door without letting go but it’s always sticky, there’s a knack to twisting the handle just as you turn the key so she goes to let go of Trixie’s hand but Trixie’s holds on with a tight grip, reaches over with her free hand to twist the handle and jiggle it slightly just as Katya turns the key, she’s giggling as the door finally cracks open and Katya’s laughing too.

“Teamwork!” she says, tosses the keys inside so that they clatter onto the floor and then her hand tugs free of Trixie’s, one arm slides behind her knees and the other’s snaking around her back and she’s lifting her up before Trixie even realises what’s happening. She shouts with laughter, ugly, delirious laughter, Katya only carries her a few paces forward, just across the threshold before she puts her back down, turns around to lock the door behind them with scrambling fingers. Trixie’s already scampering to the bedroom, laughing still, she almost gets to the bed before Katya reaches her, hands wrap around her biceps to spin her around and Trixie stumbles a little with the speed of it, Katya’s hands keep her steady as she pulls her in and kisses her through their laughter. Katya’s manhandling her onto the bed in a way that makes Trixie’s heart race, sitting her in the middle of it and practically tearing off her clothes, only stopping to kiss her in between. Trixie pulls her down on top of her once she’s naked, Katya’s mouthing at the curve of her neck and Trixie’s head tips back with it, she fumbles for the bottom of Katya’s dress and tries to tug it upwards.

“Ah, no, no, Trix, stop!” Katya says, grabs at her hands to stop her when she really has to pull the fabric hard, she’s laughing breathlessly and it takes Trixie a moment to realise what’s going on and then she’s laughing too.

“You got married in a romper,” she says, she saw Katya get dressed that morning but she still hadn’t really fit the pieces together.

“You were the one who insisted we had to wear white! This was all I had!” Katya says, pulls the thin straps down over her freckled shoulders and lets it fall to her waist.

“You married me in a romper and you didn’t even put a bra on,” Trixie says, pushes the fabric down over Katya’s thighs along with her underwear, waits for her to shift her knees so she can toss them to the ground. Katya’s grin is wicked as she leans over her again, brushes their lips together and bites down a little on her lower lip.

“Say it again,” she whispers, it sends shivers down Trixie’s spine. She ducks her head again, presses little, infuriatingly soft kisses down her chest, over her breasts but ignores her nipples altogether.

“You married me,” she says, her words followed by a breathy little gasp that escapes her when Katya’s lips close around her nipple, she sucks lightly and there’s the faintest graze of her teeth that has her arching her back towards her, Katya switches to her other breast and Trixie’s so turned on, her _wife_ is going to fuck her so good and she’s so ready. Trixie opens her eyes and Katya’s looking up at her from under spidery lashes, Trixie’s hand finds her elbow and pulls her back up so that she can kiss her. “My wife,” she says, words half muffled against her lips but she can feel Katya smiling.

“My wife,” she repeats back to her, Trixie can feel her ring on her finger where her hand’s on her bicep. She’s kissing Trixie slow and deep now, it’s so tender and Trixie feels like she could melt at the intimacy of it.

“C’mere, baby, c’mon,” Katya murmurs, shifts away from her and pulls her by the hand to the head of the bed, leans back against the pillows and the headboard and Trixie slides into her lap, ass settled against her thighs when they prop up behind her. Katya’s hands come up to cradle her face, she’s looking at her so intensely and Trixie can’t look away, doesn’t want to. “Look at you, my pretty wife,” she says, presses kisses to Trixie’s chin and neck and jaw. Trixie registers the whine she hears but hardly recognises it as her own until she sees the way Katya’s eyes widen, her thumb brushes over Trixie’s lower lip. She tilts her head up to replace it with her lips, kissing her agonisingly slowly, won’t even open her lips. “I should have married you all those years ago, shouldn’t I?” she whispers.

“Katya…”

“No, I should have,” she says, fingertips rubbing lightly over the sides of her neck. “You could have been mine all this time.”

“I have been,” Trixie says. Katya doesn’t really do regrets, doesn’t like to think about the past a lot which Trixie understands, it makes sense that she makes an effort not to dwell on what’s already happened. She likes to live in the moment as much as she possibly can and even then the present alone can get too much for her sometimes, she’d be a lot more anxious if she let herself think about the past a lot, Trixie knows that. So the idea that this is something she’s thought about before makes her chest ache, air catching in her throat, the thought that Katya remembers Trixie’s throwaway comment from so long ago that they laughed off at the time. She can imagine it easily enough, what could have been if Katya had taken her seriously when she’d suggested it back then. It stings a little, thinking about how different things could have been, simpler, maybe. But they’re so much stronger now, more certain of each other, and she doesn’t know how things could have ended up if everything had been different, maybe it would have worked out perfectly or maybe it would have been too soon and they’d have fallen apart years ago, but they’re here now, and she’s happy.

“All mine,” Katya murmurs, tucks Trixie’s hair behind her ears and kisses just under one, all the way down her neck, her hand between them is trailing down Trixie’s body, over her stomach and her hip, fingertips dancing over her thigh and then in between her legs. Trixie sighs when Katya’s fingers first slip between her folds and she’s so wet, her fingers rub over her and circle her clit, touching her just enough to feel it right through her body but light enough to make her whine into Katya’s ear, hook her arms around her neck and hold onto her tight. “That’s it, baby,” she says, her voice a low rumble against Trixie’s neck as she rubs her clit a little harder. Trixie loves that she knows exactly how to touch her, knows just what to do to make her feel this good and she loves that Katya loves it, too, that she still wants to make her feel amazing every time she touches her.

Katya slides two fingers inside her easily, Trixie bites down hard on her lip but she can’t help the little noises that escape her as she pushes them in and out in a torturously steady rhythm, Trixie wants her to go faster, harder, but doesn’t want it to be over that quickly, either. It’s not just some quick fuck, this is her _wife_ and it means so much more, means everything and the heel of Katya’s hand rubs over her clit as her fingers curl into her and her lips brush against her neck and Trixie’s lips part, she gasps against Katya’s sweaty skin at her temple, can’t help but wiggle her hips a little to push her fingers deeper.

“Please...please, Katya, I love you, please,” she whimpers, fumbles for Katya’s other hand and brings it up to her breast and Katya lifts her head up, presses their lips together in a messy, open-mouthed kiss as she kneads at Trixie’s breast, pinching her nipple so that Trixie’s thigh jumps involuntarily, her knee digging into Katya’s side. “Sorry,” she mumbles against her lips but Katya just kisses her hard, keeps up the pace with her fingers that’s making Trixie slowly lose her mind. Trixie feels like she’s almost vibrating with the force of it, bearing down against her fingers while her toes curl.

“Hey,” Katya says, voice low and gravelly and it makes Trixie swallow hard, when she doesn’t say anything else she opens her eyes, finds Katya looking at her so intensely that Trixie can’t look away. Their lips are still pressed together but just barely, noses nudge together as Trixie slides a fraction closer to her, Katya’s strong thighs press up against her ass to keep her steady in the v of her lap. Her vision’s going double but she can’t look away from Katya’s eyes, she’s never met anyone with eyes like her, so pale they’re almost grey but still so bright, somehow, Trixie’s spent so much time looking at them that she should be able to figure it out but she’s never managed it. It’s okay, though; she’s got the rest of her life to work on it.

Katya’s fingers rock in against her g-spot just as her palm presses in, rubs just over her clit and she pinches her nipple, it’s too much and Trixie’s Right There, almost tipped over the edge as she keens into Katya’s mouth and leans into her, arms squeezing around her neck. Her eyes close for a second but she forces them open, she likes seeing the way Katya’s looking at her as she comes undone, like she’s the best thing in the world. She makes Trixie feel like it, in these moments.

“Trix, touch me. Please,” she says, her voice is so strained and Trixie reaches down between her thighs, already spread for her, and she can’t help the moan she lets out, she’s so wet, Trixie rubs her fingers over her and they’re soaked immediately. Katya’s head tips back a little more against the pillows, eyelashes fluttering and Trixie pushes a finger inside her and then another, Katya’s own rhythm never falters. Trixie can feel her thighs clenching under her, telltale tremours running through them that let her know that she’s close. It’s good, Trixie’s close too, Katya’s thumb is rubbing her clit now and she’s pushing into her touch, rocking a little against her and she can feel her ring on her finger against her breast, the metal’s cool against her sweaty skin and then Katya’s fingers hit her g-spot and press and she’s coming with a sob against her mouth, Katya’s still watching her as Trixie’s eyes squeeze shut. Her thighs squeeze Katya’s hips and her hand’s moving frenetically against her, palm grinding against her and then Katya clenches around Trixie’s fingers, her hand on her chest moves to grip at Trixie’s wrist, hold her hand against her as her hips buck up against her fingers and Trixie’s head is still spinning, it’s all she can do to cling onto her.

“Trix, Trix...baby, Trixie,” Katya’s murmuring against her, her lips are dragging across Trixie’s cheek until she’s almost at her ear, nose pressing into her curls where they’re damp near her hairline. Trixie pulls her hand back from between them, moves it slowly up over Katya’s side until it’s wrapped around the back of her neck again, anchoring them together as Trixie lets her head settle in against her neck, body sagging.

“I love you,” she murmurs, feels Katya’s arms wrap around her back.

“I love you too, baby. You’re so beautiful, Trixie,” she says, drops a kiss to her cheek and Trixie’s smile against her neck is lazy.

“Married for -- what, four hours? -- and you’re already talking in cliches. She’s a changed woman, everyone,” Trixie says, Katya’s laughter is breathy against her ear.

“Who are you talking to, Trix?” she says teasingly, Trixie shrugs and kisses her neck. Katya’s hand is movingly slowly over her back, tracking steady patterns up and down her spine. It’s nice, Trixie lets herself get lost in the feeling for a moment.

“I guess you’ve got me converted, if this is what marriage is like,” Katya says a couple of quiet minutes later, Trixie opens her eyes and looks up at her.

“You married me,” she says, it still doesn’t feel real, not quite. Everything’s happened in such a whirlwind, if someone had told her this was going to happen even twenty-four hours ago she’d have laughed herself silly.

“You’re my wife now,” Katya agrees, Trixie pushes herself back up until her nose bumps against hers, kisses her slow.

“Yeah,” she whispers. It’s weird, really, that life is going to have to continue like normal after this. Nothing has changed in the grand scheme of things but Trixie’s whole world has shifted so quickly. They’re both going to have to go back to work tomorrow; Trixie was supposed to do laundry tonight once they got back, that might be able to wait until tomorrow or maybe it won’t and she’ll drag Katya down to the basement with her to help, later once her legs are working again and they can pull themselves away from each other. Life is going to continue, and Trixie’s not sure right now that she’ll ever feel quite the same again. It’s the best feeling in the world; she smiles against Katya’s lips.


End file.
